


there a thorn grows

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (but he’s undead. ha), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M, Mild Gore, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: He’d made an appointment expecting to be told he was just one of those fussy vampires - the ones who can only drink certain blood groups or are sensitive to the mineral content of their meal. It complicates things, a little, a minor inconvenience at most. But that wasn’t what his results showed.prompt L96





	there a thorn grows

**Author's Note:**

> warning: there are a few undetailed mentions of animals as vampire feeds.  
prompter, I tried to keep the angst as minimal as possible in the circumstances!;; I’d hoped to make this short and sweet, but it somehow ended up neither..haha;; there were a lot more things I’d have liked to add in, but unfortunately the word count and time were against me. their romance is a little unconventional because they’re hopeless, but still, I hope you enjoy it! and thank you mods for being so friendly and running a great fest [sparkles]
> 
> (for the purpose of bodily responses to anxiety, vampires in this ‘verse still have blood and juicy functioning organs, they’re just strong enough to last forever :’D )

It makes sense, but also it really, really doesn’t. Junmyeon woke long before sunset and has been bundled in his duvet since, back to the wall in the darkest corner of his bedroom. And he’s been thinking- trying to think, mind racing and his focus tripping from one frustration to another helplessness.

Some vampires take to their new lifestyle faster than others, yes, but Junmyeon normally thrives at anything life (or not, exactly, in this case) throws at him. Without a single decent meal in nearly two months since being turned Junmyeon conceded to having tests run, so he could get answers, make changes, and start not-living his new life. He’d made an appointment expecting to be told he was just one of those fussy vampires - the ones who can only drink certain blood groups or are sensitive to the mineral content of their meal. It complicates things, a little, a minor inconvenience at most. But that wasn’t what his results showed.

Acute anxiety is apparently not too uncommon in newly turned vampires. The doctor that told him this had a sharp but kind smile and her hair drawn back in a firm knot, translucent skin taut across her forehead with a clear map of blue veins. Junmyeon avoided her eyes and focused on tracing those, until he realised it was probably obvious where he was looking, and that was probably rude. She advised counselling (and Junmyeon shook his head), surrounding himself with a supportive community, talking to people about it. The thought of travelling to a one-on-one session or being _surrounded_ by anyone or being this starved for any longer was like a kicked hornets nest inside his head. Junmyeon smiled, thanked her for her time and apologised for wasting it, and retched in the clinically shiny bathroom.

If there’s only one thing Junmyeon does knows right now it’s that he isn’t going in to work tonight. He needs time to really absorb the news and think about what to do next. Thankfully his employer is part of one of those nocturnal citizen support schemes that welcomes their employees to simply take on new hours. They allow up to a week of sick days during the..adjustment period, and so far he’s only taken one. 

Junmyeon drops his head back against the pale yellow wall with a thud. He should invest in some blackout curtains, maybe. His sleep is constantly disrupted by sunlight glowing through the blinds and lighting up the room, how he liked it when he was human. To call in he needs his phone. And to get his phone he needs to leave his duvet cocoon. Bad.

Feeling more like a disgustingly large maggot than a vampire, Junmyeon draws his puffy cloak tighter around himself and wriggles across the bed. His phone is face down, still running his sleep tracker. 4 hours, from 7am til 11am. What kind of vampire is up at 11am? What kind of vampire is aching with hunger because they just..can’t people. Ugh. 

After calling himself in sick, Junmyeon crafts himself a poorly constructed fort and spends nearly an hour doing his own research. It seems slightly less daunting reading forums from under his bed covers than it did facing someone probably 200 years older than him who was probably definitely judging him. Unfortunately, vampires..well, they’re proud of their natural charms. If humans can be unsympathetic to anxiety, vampires are something else. Junmyeon scrolls and scrolls and his insides knot tighter. He leaves the forums and checks his texts, but everyone in his small group chat is still asleep.

Kyungsoo had responded last night, when Junmyeon was travelling home, hunched over his phone with his forehead to the door. Trying to block out the rest of the train’s passengers became surprisingly easy once he was mentally chanting curses. _sorry to hear that_, Kyungsoo had sent, _at least it’s nothing severe_. Junmyeon still hasn’t thought of anything civil to say in response yet. 

By midday he concedes to the fact he’s getting lightheaded and filling his stuffy little fort with vampire sweat. Venturing out of his room still bundled in duvet, Junmyeon stops in the hallway to put his shoes back in place. He’d kicked them at the wall when he got home, thinking the impact would in some way be satisfying. But it was 5am and his neighbours work early, and the molten ball of anger in his chest split 20-80, a small lump rising to his throat and a lead weight dropping into his stomach. It’s still there.

Junmyeon sits at the counter with his phone in one hand and bagged blood in the other. They feel squishy and strange and taste a lot better at room temperature. But Junmyeon hasn’t fed in three days, and he’s busy feeling sorry for himself. Fridge-cold blood is exactly what he needs to compound his misery. This is what he’ll be drinking for the next three hundred years, and honestly he’d still rather do that than go to a support group.

“Oh,” the straw pops out of his mouth. He’s been aimlessly browsing instagram for more misery fuel (all the cool non-anxious vampires went to a club opening last night. Kim Minseok was there. Junmyeon’s even less cool than he already was now all of his friends have seen him and he missed out), but this looks interesting. And particularly apt. Has his phone been listening to him grumbling to himself? Frowning, he sticks the straw back in his mouth and gnaws on the thick rubber as he reads.

Under an image of a complex yoga pose silhouetted by a full moon, they suggest breaking your anxiety down into sections. Each section has roots. Roots are good. Roots can be traced and wiggled out. Junmyeon noisily sucks the last drops out of the bag.

Well, firstly, his senses. That’s an obvious issue. Everything is far sharper now. The world is twice as loud and easily overwhelming. He no longer needs glasses, which is a definite plus point. But he can also see pores and fine hairs and a whole history mapped out on the skin of each person he passes. He can hear organs gurgling and pumping blood and not only is it disgusting, it stirs up all kinds of new, not particularly wholesome urges. Maybe those are the second root.

There’s the whole upheaval of lifestyle - colleagues and friends and people he’s strived to impress for _years_ who are already dropping him off their radar. Career prospects he can no longer take, age milestones he’ll never reach. (Admittedly never having to hit 30 in human gay years isn’t such a bad thought).

And Junmyeon’s also intensely afraid. Like, that’s a pretty obvious conclusion to having anxiety, but..yeah, he’s afraid. He’s always lived and worked in relatively safe areas. It wasn’t often in his mortal life that his queerness actually made him fearful, as much as he knew there were reasons. He stayed sensible in when and where he kissed boys, how he looked at men when he travelled home alone with specks of Sehun’s body glitter rubbed onto his cheekbone from when they hugged goodbye. It was an easy enough mask. He looks like a vampire, lives like a vampire. They’re an even less popular part of the population than his familiar place.

The blood has a strong aftertaste. Junmyeon snaps the plastic cap off the tube as per recycling guidelines before binning that and the pouch, rinsing his mouth out with water from the sink. For a split second he wonders who donated the blood he’s trying to swill off his gums and the inside of his cheeks, but that’s never a useful train of thought. He still feels weak with hunger. And miserable, and it won’t be dark for at least 7 more hours so he can’t even go and do yoga under the moon. 

Feeling like a slightly fuller, still just as disgusting maggot, Junmyeon and his duvet ball up on the couch. He checks his texts once more, locks his phone without setting an alarm, and pulls the covers over his head.

When Junmyeon gets palpitations it’s less of a flutter in his chest and more of a stampede. The inhuman strength thing is pretty neat and all, but less so when your new ultra strong insides are nervy as hell. The bell chimes again - that must be what woke him - and this time there’s a solid knock on the door. His body feels like it could vibrate right off the couch.

Junmyeon emerges from his duvet cocoon to find his apartment now dark. The moon has barely started moving across the sky, so he hasn’t overslept. It’s only as he’s sliding the chain from its latch that he realises he’s still wearing the clothes he worked, attended his appointment, and depress-napped the day away in. He quickly smooths his shirt and checks for any specks of blood from his meal earlier.

Not that Junmyeon was expecting any visitors at all, but his visitor being not-Kyungsoo makes the knot in his stomach pull taut. It’s.. “Chanyeol?” Junmyeon tries hopefully, and to his relief his neighbour nods.

“Hey. Yeah.” Chanyeol waves. His hand is huge, and he leaves it hanging awkwardly in mid-air. “Uh, yeah. Sorry to intrude, but. Thing is, I’ve been talking my friend’s ear off about whether it was inappropriate or not to check in on you if I was concerned, and he-” both hands come up, and Junmyeon sinks back a little, “Have you ever seen Baekhyun?”

Junmyeon blinks at Chanyeol, confused. He has no idea if he’s seen Baekhyun. When he opened the door he barely recognised Chanyeol, with his hair now blonde and in a puffy sprout on top his head, and they’ve been neighbours for coming up a year.

Thankfully Chanyeol is a fast talker and doesn’t let the silence hang long enough to become awkward. “Ah, well. He said he’d have appreciated it, when, you know. When he first started his nocturnal life. And now I’m here I think this probably _was_ inappropriate,” he winces apologetically, ducking his head. The sprout of hair is pretty cute. “But the point was, if you need anything let me know? And if not,” Chanyeol springs upright again and gestures back down the row of doors with his thumb, “I can avoid you until one of us moves out.”

“Not..not necessary,” Junmyeon frowns. His head is pretty spinny all the time from the meagre feeds, but with that all swirling around in it he feels dizzy. “It was ok. That you checked. Thank you.” He offers Chanyeol the tiniest of smiles, wary of baring his fangs to a human. “I..ah, I’d hoped maybe no one around here would notice the change, but I guess it’s pretty obvious.”

“Is it?” Chanyeol smiles. He has a kind smile; Junmyeon’s always thought so. They make way for each other on the stairs sometimes, and Junmyeon often hears Chanyeol laughing with his friends or on the phone when he walks by. And there was before.. “Have you ever noticed how many vampires live in this building?” Chanyeol asks, rhetorical, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking far less imposing for it. “I barely know everyone on this floor, let alone how they spend their time.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon replies. He realises he’s still holding the door and it probably looks like he’s going to slam it on Chanyeol, so he folds his arms and rests his hip against the wall. That’s casual, right? Or does it look impatient. Or-

“My best friends are both vampires,” Chanyeol elaborates, and Junmyeon feels achingly envious of his easy charm. Junmyeon used to be able to do that. Vampires are supposed to be _more_ charming and he doesn’t even know how to stand. “And I couldn’t help noticing you were leaving on a different schedule recently. I never sleep, so.” He shrugs, and his tongue pokes through his grin, and Junmyeon wishes he wasn’t wearing his depression nap outfit.

“I think you’re right. That most people probably don’t notice - my closest friends are vampires, but I’d never noticed you having any visit. Not even since I turned.”

Chanyeol’s eyes crinkle in an expression that Junmyeon can only interpret as _see?_

“Is,” Junmyeon falters, but Chanyeol seems nice - he came here to offer help. Junmyeon’s not super versed on auras yet, but all he knows of Chanyeol is that he’s nice. “Is, uh. Is nocturnal life the..official word?” he asks, then feels stupid. His heart gives a painful kick in his chest. “I keep seeing it, like, my work has this nocturnal citizens scheme, and I noticed places with nocturnal opening hours,” he fumbles on, eyes darting away from Chanyeol’s face to where his hands are pushing out the fabric of his hoodie pocket, “Sorry. I wasn’t well versed before turning.”

This time Chanyeol doesn’t answer immediately. Junmyeon tightens his arms around himself, resisting the urge to apologise again. “It’s..” Chanyeol’s hands are out of his pocket again, “It’s kind of, like. It’s the most progressive term the community have managed to get into mainstream use? Not everyone likes it. But it’s probably the safest term to go with when you’re around new friends.”

Ah, _friends_. New friends. Junmyeon nods tersely and digs a fang into his tongue in case his brain decides to blurt out that Chanyeol is the only new person he’s spoken to since turning. (Aside from veiny doctor. Veiny doctor probably isn’t likely to become a friendship).

After thanking Chanyeol and a few moments pacing in the hallway regretting how feebly he returned an unexpected handshake, Junmyeon makes a beeline back to the safety of his duvet. He doesn’t check his phone immediately, but when he eventually gives the notifications a glance he isn’t surprised to see that there’s nothing new from the group chat.

✖️

Junmyeon still isn’t used to his lack of reflection. There’s new technology for making workable enough mirrors for the home - some offices and department stores even have them now, a separate panel on the end of a standard pane - and he shows up on his phone. When the train goes through tunnels there’s just a clear view of darkness through the window, only the strips of light and handholds inside reflected back.

The regular subway stops running at 11pm. Then, after the staff have switched and the lights have dimmed, it reopens. Junmyeon’s still navigating the new timetable and mixing up 12 noon and 12 night, but so long as it gets him to work and back. He’s only been using the nocturnal citizens line, or whatever it’s called, for two months and hasn’t been adventurous. He knows 4am is rush hour, but there’s always enough work to catch up on that he can be on the platform nearer to 5.

Junmyeon’s planted himself firmly in his usual spot in front of the door, phone in one hand. His fingertips press to the cold glass panel for balance now and then. The doors don’t open on this side for any of the stops before his own, so he can stay out of everyone’s way here. Each time the subway map is shown he stares resolutely at the screen above the door (only five more stops, four more. Only six minutes until the next stop), and he wonders if anyone is watching the back of his head each time he tilts to reread the strip of advertising beside the door. Fixating on one spot for too long looks strange. Only four minutes until it’s only three stops.

Junmyeon’s local station is too small to have one of those fancy screens with a sunrise timer like they have nearer the city, but when he comes above ground to a world washed blue and grey it’s not a good sign. For the first month using the nocturnal line Junmyeon would arrive back home at around 4:30. These sprints back to his apartment with the threat of sunrise flashing orange in car mirrors and high windows are getting more frequent. 

It’s impossible to avoid seeing _anyone_ in the space between vampire and human working hours, but the later Junmyeon leaves it the fewer people he passes. He can run at twice the speed he used to, at least. Being alone around humans is mutually unnerving, but crossing a vampire on the street is even worse. They might _talk_ to him.

Junmyeon is longingly thinking of his bed as he climbs the stairs. It’s a metal staircase, rusted from years with no awning. There wasn’t one attached to the remaining supports when Junmyeon moved in, but he’s always assumed it damaged gradually, maybe finally came away in a storm. He goes slowly, footfalls soft so he doesn’t make a racket at gone 5am.

It’s a late night for him, but time sort of loses its coherency once you avoid daylight and have a body working in overdrive. Sehun and Jongin don’t seem afraid of anything, and they certainly don’t slink back into the shadows the moment the sun is up. They reassured him that there’s only been, like, one staking in the past six months (and honestly, who goes around _staking_ vampires in 2019?), but even so Junmyeon is just..he’s taking things slow and steady. Nothing wrong with that.

Except everything that _is_ wrong. Sure being a vampire is fun, if you’re not too afraid to make eye contact with anyone, let alone try and sink your teeth into them. Two and a half months, yet Junmyeon hasn’t had one successful feed. He hasn’t followed up with veiny doctor about the sessions or support groups. To his friends’ credit they’ve never wound down with encouraging him to experience vampire night (day?) life, however often he declines, but something aches uncomfortable and hollow whenever Junmyeon thinks he’d rather they could do a little more talking instead.

Reluctantly thinking of the bagged blood waiting in the fridge, Junmyeon pauses to fish for his keys. To his left the muffled drift of music comes from behind a closed door. As soon as he registers that he’s listening he tries to tune it out. His new senses are awfully intrusive. It’s almost disappointing when his fingers close around the small bunch of keys. Cold, stale blood, and the inevitable exhausted sadness that settles over him once his eyes are closed and there are no distractions.

The noisy door was Chanyeol’s, Junmyeon realises as he walks ahead to his own.

✖️

Friday night, Jongin reliably informed Junmyeon, is his best opportunity for an easy meal. The humans all head out after work at around the same time Junmyeon will arrive in the heart of the city to start his night. _Nothing easier than breakfast on a Friday_, Jongin told him with one of his sweet sleepy grins. Jongin is handsome in such an effortless way, styled in modern fashion like the kind of vampire every teenage girl hopes to meet. Junmyeon nodded, let Jongin sweep him into a hug, and waved him away. For Jongin, yes, it is easy.

Of course, there’s one alternative to blood pouches, and it’s one that Junmyeon’s finding himself increasingly reliant on. He didn’t skip breakfast today, but it didn’t come from a human.

Junmyeon gets out at 2am, and because its a Friday the streets are still crowded and noisy. Some humans don’t mind the risk of travelling on the nocturnal line if they’ve missed the last train (some go _for_ the risk, according to things Junmyeon has regretted reading in Jongin’s comment threads). Aside from the usual ache of hunger, Junmyeon just has a bad feeling in his stomach about how charged the atmosphere is on the approach to the subway. For the second time this week he decides to treat himself to a cab ride, reaching into his pocket for his phone and sinking back into the shadows, away from the noise.

They’re busy this time of the week - ten minutes. Good. Ten minutes is plenty enough time to rehearse reciting his address. Junmyeon purses his lips, taps rapidly against the sides of his phone with his long nails, and wonders if he looks too suspicious skulking around in a dark alleyway.

Junmyeon squints at his phone as he walks the single street to his apartment, like he’s following a map and very absorbed and unavailable. Even things Junmyeon did as a human - simple things; travelling to work, making minimal conversation with cab drivers - seem to be immeasurably harder. Yesterday he queued twice, only to twice reach the train doors and have his flight instinct kick in. The scent and noise and pulsing of life from the subway entrance overwhelmed him too much to even go down there earlier in the week.

In his other hand a small plastic bag swings. He’d ended up in a convenience store to pass the time, so he could stop looking like he was hiding in the shadows waiting for a victim. They don’t have any kind of vampire friendly adaptions because, understandably, stores without blood banks have few vampire customers. It seemed a lot brighter than Junmyeon remembered, but the familiarity of the layout was soothing in a way. He’d dropped some coins, because he swears vampire sweat is like, eight times sweatier than human, but it was still a small victory. 

There may be no nourishment for him in human food anymore, but due to his recent..dietary requirements Junmyeon has been budgeting a little in. It helps take away the aftertaste of animal. He chews and spits his way through packs of sandwiches and sticky rice to quicker replace the texture, help him forget the brush of fur against his lips. He still cries sometimes. Kyungsoo would probably unfollow, unfriend and block if he knew that.

Kyungsoo’s actually had very little useful advice, after kind of implying he’d teach Junmyeon what to do. His little (big) underlings have spent more time encouraging Junmyeon to do something other than work and stop sucking on blood pouches like he’s brought a capri-sun whenever they go out, and it makes him feel like Kyungsoo’s disappointed with him. Which is..weird, getting disappointed parent vibes from an ex, and sits in his chest at an uncomfortable angle between hurt and anger.

In honesty he’s not even adapting to his work all that well, despite prioritising it. The dizzying hunger, the change in atmosphere, the change in colleagues right when he’s feeling at his least sociable. Looking out at a city with its glitter dimmed for sleep while working through his ‘morning’ emails is strange. He has an almost permanent prickling sensation creeping up into the back of his hair and spreading hot down his neck and spine, his insides jolting at the slightest unexpected mention of his name.

Junmyeon hauls himself up the stairs in stops and starts and tells himself it’s out of consideration for sleeping neighbours, not because he’s growing weaker. Sure vampires have enhanced strength and speed, but they’re also supposed to have the charms to get sufficient nourishment. As the twin terrors keep informing him, _it’s 2019_. No one expects vampires to hunt every day of the week - society runs smoother without the risk of zealous feeders. Which, as he gathered from what Chanyeol told him when they bumped into each other at the vending machine around the side of the building, involved months of debate and the introduction of donated blood. The little juice box equivalents Junmyeon’s been living off of. It’s the law that they’re sold in at least one store per radius-of-area-Junmyeon-didn’t-learn-yet. There’s an app.

Jongin prefers his food to be enthusiastic, and Sehun is spoiled. Kyungsoo sorts his feeds to ensure that he’s..well, not getting the kind of diet Jongin or Junmyeon are. As for Kyungsoo himself, Junmyeon’s never liked to ask. But maybe he should, because he hasn’t had any luck the past few days stocking up on store bought. They let the stock run low. Or maybe sometimes the willing supply runs low, who knows. 

God, all Junmyeon thinks about recently is blood. Blood dripping onto his laminate kitchen floor, blood spatters on the thigh of his jeans despite being _really_ careful, rinsing blood from his mouth, the exact amount of suction to get blood through a little rubber tube. The hot brightness of it pulsing through humans when they get close enough to him makes his throat close up.

Distracted, Junmyeon takes a step up that isn’t there and stumbles onto the concrete. Everything is horrible. He leans his elbows over the chest-high wall and lets a long sigh out into the cool dawn air. One of the only benefits to his new schedule has been observing the world from a different angle. He enjoys seeing his little area come alive, starting with the rattle of deliveries to the local bars until eventually the roads and streets are filling. Especially since his eyesight has been enhanced and there’s so much more to see. But right now Junmyeon’s vision keeps blurring with big fat tears, however fast he blinks them back.

Everything is really, really horrible. Being a vampire has always had a reputation, and in this day and age (_in 2019_) it’s supposed to be one long party. And here Junmyeon is sobbing probably highly potent vampire tears because he’s just..he is just too afraid of people to even meet their eye, let alone try and get a meal. He sets the plastic bag down by his feet to free up both hands, wipes at his eyes and wet face with both palms. Where does this all end?

“Hey neighbour.”

It’s soft, but Junmyeon still nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns, a hand pressed to his chest to try and calm the thunderous beat. It’s Chanyeol, leaning out of his apartment. His hand is still on the door and he’s only taken one step forward, keeping out of Junmyeon’s space.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Chanyeol ducks his fluffy head down, “I was awake, I couldn’t help hearing..” He spares Junmyeon the embarrassment of saying he was crying _that_ loud, but the implication is there. Junmyeon wouldn’t die if he jumped from here, he thinks, but he could probably angle to land in a slice of the sunrise and be ashes by the time Chanyeol reached him. “Everything, uh. Ok?”

For a moment Junmyeon just stares ahead into the pit of Chanyeol’s throat, hyper aware of the wetness on his face, then shakes his head minutely. It was a stupid question; it would be just as stupid to lie. “Things,” he shrugs his narrow shoulders, wipes his cheeks with his sleeve, “Just things. Sorry for disturbing you.”

Chanyeol’s hand comes away from the door to wave. “No, no. I said any time was fine if you needed it, didn’t I?”

And Junmyeon has to nod this time, because yeah, he did. But people say things like that to be nice. Chanyeol looks crumpled up, like someone just pulled him out of a laundry basket, so Junmyeon can only conclude he maybe just is nice, to have hurriedly dressed and come out here to the rescue. “It must be 4am by now,” he says, stooping to pick up his bag, “We should..”

“Hey,” soft again, and so low. Normally Chanyeol wears clothing that hangs from him, but he’s in a faded t-shirt that looks like it only fits due to stretching over time. The sleeves are rolled up under his arms, and as he steps forward he tugs at the left one to straighten it out. “You’re very welcome to come in, if you want to,” he says, beams, “Does it only work if I address you personally? It’s Kim Junmyeon, right?”

“Oh,” Junmyeon clutches his plastic bag in both hands, eyes still wet and mouth suddenly very dry. His first invitation into a home. And he got it by..being the exact opposite of charming. Huh.

It’s a sensory barrage. Not like trying to take the subway, but in that Chanyeol is surprisingly floral, and it’s almost dizzying combined with how warm he keeps his apartment. Maybe Junmyeon’s just never been close or focused enough to notice the strong bergamot top note in Chanyeol’s perfume before. Bluebell detergent, a peony reed diffuser. Junmyeon starts wringing the bag handles still in his hold. Everything feels harsher now he’s raw and tired from crying. 

“Guess I can’t really offer you anything, huh?” Chanyeol asks from the kitchen area, where he’s been hurriedly clearing off surfaces, “Seems rude to invite someone in and not get you anything.”

“The invite was enough, really,” Junmyeon replies, and he means it. He’s not..good at this, at being around people, but this is about the first Standard Vampire Thing that’s happened to him since being turned. Even if he does feel out of place here. He wants to slot away, fit somewhere rather than stick out.

Chanyeol wipes his hands off on his thighs, leaving a damp imprint. “Seriously though, if you need anything just ask. My best friends have been vampires for like, at least as long as I’ve been alive.” It only takes him three strides to get from the counter to the couch. “They have all this actual clothing from the 80’s? Or, one of them does, anyway, the other one has probably been dressing like a dad ever since dad fashion was invented.”

Junmyeon attempts a smile. 

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol adds hopefully. The vampire networks aren’t all that large, really, if you’re in them. “I already mentioned Baekhyunnie.”

The discomfort of encroaching on someone else’s space is hitting hard now they’re sharing the small couch, Junmyeon sinking towards Chanyeol and their knees nearly touching. “Thanks. Again. I..” he accidentally punctures the plastic bag with a thumbnail, “I just don’t feel like I could face anyone yet.”

Chanyeol frowns, leaning his elbows on his knees so they’re closer to eye level. “They’re not judgemental. At all. I’m pretty sure Baekhyun got turned at precisely 21 so he could be legal but irresponsible for all eternity.”

This time Junmyeon does smile. He can imagine the kinds of friends that big, gentle floral Chanyeol has, and it’s a warming thought. “It’s just the whole..the transitional phase and everything, I guess.”

Chanyeol nods slightly in understanding. “It hasn’t been long, right?” 

Junmyeon shakes his head. A strand of hair falls loose across his forehead, and for a split second Junmyeon could swear he senses a spike in Chanyeol’s pulse, a flinch of a movement he doesn’t follow through.

“I do have vampire friends, I just haven’t spent much time with them as a vampire yet. I have a career, they don’t.” Rather than tucking it back, Junmyeon starts scrubbing the rest of his hair out of the upsweep he styles it in for work. “One of them gets most of his feeds in clubs, it’s not really..”

Chanyeol hums. Not Junmyeon’s scene. “Yeah, not for everyone. But the free booze is a selling point, huh?”

“True,” Junmyeon almost laughs, but then it dawns on him that he’s talking to a _human_ about this. The first feed Junmyeon saw years before he turned was horrific, and even now the concept isn’t exactly appealing. “Sorry, I’m just,” he tugs at his hair, suddenly unsure where to look, “I’m just, saying things without thinking. Is me talking about this..” Disgusting? Repulsive? Frightening..?

“Gross?” Chanyeol offers. When he shrugs the material of his shirt bunches, then stretches out tight across his chest. Good to know anxiety and vampiricism haven’t effected how outstandingly gay Junmyeon is. “Nah, it’s fine. I mean, especially at clubs..” For a moment Chanyeol’s mouth hangs open as he searches for a polite way to say the whole vampire thing is horny by nature. “People, uh. Are looking for vampires too, in some environments, so.”

Also true. That’s why they keep inviting him - a free lunch, basically - but it was never really Junmyeon’s scene as a human either. Sehun and Jongin say theatre vampires stopped being a thing because it’s _boring_, it’s expensive, you have to sit through all that singing before you even get a chance at a meal. Junmyeon feels it would add to the already perfect experience. Junmyeon, who’s going to drink cold blood from a bag and then choke on human food and maybe have a small cry for good measure.

“I suppose a lot of new vampires go into this with ideas they have to give up on,” he thinks out loud, then ducks his head. Stupid. He catches a glimpse of his watch in doing so, and even if Chanyeol claims to never sleep he should probably at least be resting at this time of day. And Junmyeon has sunlight to avoid, so. “Anyway, I should..” Moving rustles the bag in his hand, and Chanyeol pays attention to it for the first time. His puzzled little frown starts Junmyeon’s heart racing again, his stomach swirling with this reflexive shame he seems to have developed for existing.

Chanyeol’s focus doesn’t linger. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling his big smile, “We both should.” He claps both hands on his knees before standing, doesn’t comment on the bag as he leads Junmyeon the five steps across to the door. For a moment Junmyeon gets that sense again, that Chanyeol had intent and didn’t follow through. Maybe he’s just not used to someone with such expressive hands. “You’re always welcome here, ok? If you need to talk,” Chanyeol says, holding the door open and keeping within his own space.

It would be rude to protest, so Junmyeon nods. “Thank you. Really.” The urge to apologise nags at him but he resists, because then he would apologise for apologising and Chanyeol would start flapping at him. Chanyeol has been friendly ever since he moved in last year, when he had short red hair and Junmyeon was human and never noticed Chanyeol’s vampire friends or that he smells of floral citrus.

The thing was, it was mutual that they chose to politely ignore each other after Chanyeol asked for a date. Even with only human senses it was always clear in his tone and big eyes that rejection didn’t change his feelings, but now Junmyeon can practically feel it radiating from him. He doesn’t doubt that Chanyeol is a safe human; he’s the exact same Chanyeol that brought Junmyeon a handful of flowers and wore nice jeans to visit two doors down. Junmyeon was in a casual relationship at the time, but a relationship nonetheless, and Chanyeol was so mortified and so _loud_ that Junmyeon never really got the opportunity to say that he was flattered. That it was ok, just the wrong time.

It feels perversely inappropriate to think about Chanyeol while he’s swallowing blood, so Junmyeon distracts himself with the early morning news. The reader wishes everyone a good morning when it turns 5am. _And goodnight to those of you just getting home_, she adds, and Junmyeon’s mouth quirks at the edge as he twists the cap off the pouch.

His room is already starting to warm with early morning sun. Junmyeon crawls across his bed to close the blinds and ignores the soreness in his joints, the hollow pain deep inside that the small feeds no longer dull. He wonders if Chanyeol went to bed, too, or if he’s still on the couch. Sitting on it had felt like sinking into a soft slice of bread, Junmyeon thinks, or maybe he’s thinking of the sandwiches still in the bag on the counter. The last thing on his mind before sleep takes him is the way Chanyeol’s hands move when he speaks. 

It was just the wrong time.

✖️

Chanyeol said he’d be there whenever Junmyeon needed him, and Junmyeon has tried so, so hard not to need him.

For over a week they haven’t directly crossed paths. Junmyeon hears Chanyeol’s heavy footfalls on the stairs, his laugh. Sometimes he’s wasteful with his energy, seeking out the vibration of Chanyeol’s music down the hall. And Junmyeon’s not kidding himself that it’s a normal neighbourly thing to do, but this..it feels like the wrong time. Again. Junmyeon would like a friend, not a soft heart to take advantage of. (Maybe that’s why he’s a pretty useless vampire).

Chanyeol didn’t take the avoidance badly, or seemingly even realise that’s what it was. He’s tapping and scrolling on Junmyeon’s phone, brows bunched tight together. Junmyeon’s been lying on the couch for a while now, on his back, the soft, sagging material slowly consuming him. He can’t stop trembling. He’d been with Sehun and Kyungsoo. They’d found him a girl - a feed - and he.. well, now he’s in Chanyeol’s apartment.

Chanyeol’s bracelets knock together, presumably from him mussing his hair. “Ah, so, I _did_ have a solution..” he sounds forlorn. With almost silent gentleness he places Junmyeon’s phone on the coffee table. “But, uh. Well, I was looking for an app I knew about, but looks like you already have it. The one for pairing up vampires with local donors.”

Junmyeon makes a sound in his throat. He’d had to give Chanyeol a reason for good as collapsing through his door, and with his brain all but consumed by his empty stomach it was something pretty close to the truth. “Useful if you’re successful on dating apps in the first place. You know how those are.”

“Don’t, actually,” Chanyeol shrugs. And oh, Junmyeon’s fevered thoughts ring loud, he’s such a sweetheart. Of course he wouldn’t like using something like that. “But you, I’d figure you wouldn’t have trouble finding a match. But..”

“But,” Junmyeon shields his eyes with his arm, his forehead clammy and sticky against the skin. Three months ago he would have picked up the opportunity to flirt, but he feels about as attractive as a sack of dirt right now. Kinda just plain feels like a sack of dirt in general. He tries to think ahead, make a version of the last few months that’s neat to retell and totally not spiralling out of control.

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol moves to perch on the arm of the couch beside his head. Every pulse point comes into such abrupt, tangible focus that Junmyeon curls in on his side in some attempt to shield himself from it. He’s still not versed enough on his new urges to be sure if he’s just starved out of his mind or if he’s..something else. That _really_ feels like the wrong place for the little energy he has left to focus on right now.

“I saw a doctor,” Junmyeon says if only to try and distract himself, “A while ago. Just after I turned.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol shifts, “If it’s intrusive of me to ask then forget it, yeah?”

“No, it’s.. Actually I’m supposed to be talking about it, but I just haven’t found anyone to talk to yet,” Junmyeon huffs out a little laugh. Chanyeol is nice. Chanyeol _likes_ him, and people are often more careful when they like someone. But conversely he might be more likely to tell his vampire friends, if he thinks they can help someone he cares for. Shutting him out, going home and continuing like this until the next time feels unbearable. “I just..I have anxiety? Social anxiety. That’s what the doctor told me. So getting up close and personal with anyone is..I know it’s the stupidest thing, I should j-”

For someone with elevated senses, it takes Junmyeon several seconds to realise he’s being hugged. It’s an awkward angle and Chanyeol’s arms don’t fit around him with the couch cushions in the way, but it’s..that’s definitely what it is. A huge swamp of warmth with sticky-out elbows.

“Don’t say that.” Chanyeol’s breath puffs against Junmyeon’s jaw. His pulse reverberates hot through Junmyeon’s rib cage. For a moment Junmyeon feels like he’s melting away. “It’s not stupid at all.”

“Feels it,” Junmyeon replies. Unsure what to do with his arms he just stays still. “Humans aren’t all that sympathetic, vampires are even worse. I’m supposed to be thriving with all these new senses, not being overwhelmed by them.”

When Chanyeol lifts off him it feels like throwing off a heavy duvet. “It’s not as simple as that. Junmyeon, being angry with yourself only sets you back further.”

“Not being angry isn’t that simple either.” Some days Junmyeon is afraid of what’s outside the same door he’s opened hundreds of times, like today might be the day the view has changed, or there’s someone right outside waiting for him and he’ll do everything wrong. That makes no sense. Everyone seems to think sense is all you need to make of it.

Chanyeol gathers his bangs in one hand, pulling them up away from his face. “So that’s why you haven’t been feeling good.” He frowns, drops his hands into his lap, and his blonde hair puffs out in all directions. “And tonight? Did..did something happen?”

Junmyeon lets out a little groan at the memory. He’s damp around his collar with extra sweaty vampire sweat from the heat and fear of Chanyeol being so close.

“My friends- vampire friends, they found someone for me. You know, they set it up, it wasn’t..” There was nothing untoward about it. They carefully made it seem like it wasn’t pitiful, just happy coincidence. She was nice, bubbly, bruised from prior feeds. She seemed to know Kyungsoo well. “Somehow that made it worse? They were so focused on me, and she was so expectant. I can’t even remember if I made a decent excuse.” 

“Oh. But if they’re-”

“They already know. We never talk about it. I’ve tried,” he says before Chanyeol can ask. The spaces between him reaching out and them cheerfully suggesting distractions are frightening. “But I can take a hint.”

When Junmyeon is steady on his legs Chanyeol sees him to the door, hands wrung together while Junmyeon forces his feet into his nice going-out shoes. He clearly wants to say something, and as he reaches for the latch he glances back at Junmyeon. “You know they’re the ones in the wrong? It’s not easy when it’s people you care about, but.” He pushes the door open, and Junmyeon bows his head as he ducks outside. “I understand, and I’m here for you. Uh. Yeah.”

Junmyeon’s head feels heavy, so maybe that’s why Chanyeol’s little frown deepens. He thought he’d smiled.

“Tonight was fine. Just so you know. I’m glad you came to me when you needed.”

“Appreciated,” Junmyeon says, and this time he smiles until he feels it stretching his mouth. If only a feather’s worth he feels a little lighter for having some sympathy. He takes the walk two doors down slowly, wondering how long ago Chanyeol must have been in therapy himself. 

✖️

“Do you still use serum?”

“Do I- what?”

“Use serum,” Chanyeol tilts his head with a thoughtful pout. The pad of one of his long fingers is pressed to Junmyeon’s cheek. “Or whatever you use. Does your skin just stay perfect as a vampire?”

“It’s far from perfect.” Junmyeon’s quick about brushing Chanyeol’s hand away so he doesn’t feel his pulse. “Being undead just froze it in the state it was at the time, I guess.”

“It’s really not bad,” Chanyeol says, drawing his knees up and gripping his ankles to keep his long legs folded in. “I reckon once you start having regular feeds it might improve, though.”

“A priority,” Junmyeon replies thinly. He hasn’t had a visitor for a long time and can’t seem to remember what exactly it is that you do. He got Chanyeol a glass of water. When Chanyeol looks across at him for a long time he thinks of bundling up under his duvet.

Maybe Chanyeol’s intuitive, maybe it’s that Junmyeon resolutely stares down at the coffee table for going on a minute. He claps his hands and says, “So, anyway.”

So anyway, Chanyeol is actually here to discuss if he can help. He offers to accompany Junmyeon to buy blood packs if he’s nervous of going alone, which is at least less stressful than finding him a live feed like Kyungsoo did. Junmyeon self-consciously smooths at the sides of his hair while Chanyeol enthuses about everything he’s covertly been learning from his vampire friends.

“You really don’t have to go out of your way,” he says, but he gets the feeling Chanyeol’s already decided this is the only direction he’s interested in going.

“When was the last time you had a proper feed?” Chanyeol asks by way of reply, and Junmyeon’s blood runs as cold as the pouches in the fridge.

He was hungry enough to actually trail along with Jongin and Sehun. They said it’s easy, and he’s handsome, and it’s not like he’s ever had bad luck with men. Just because he wants a little blood too doesn’t really change anything. It wasn’t a gay bar because it was one Jongin chose, and by his third unsuccessful attempt Junmyeon cut straight to the easiest sell (who can resist a pretty boy with low confidence?). Already fraught and on edge from the amount of noise and physical contact, Junmyeon wasn’t exactly careful. It was a blur of panic and hunger, two thick swallows of blood before Junmyeon detached himself to retch. If he hadn’t made such a mess he wouldn’t have escaped the stall so easily. He dreams about it still, sometimes, but in his dreams he doesn’t find Sehun.

Chanyeol blinks his big eyes curiously. “You haven’t fed at all yet?”

“I’ve attempted it,” Junmyeon says quickly, then sighs. “Once. Unsuccessfully.”

“No wonder you haven’t been feeling good.” Chanyeol sounds earnest, not judgmental. His eyebrows constantly furrow when he’s thinking, and right now he’s good as scowling.

“I’m getting by,” Junmyeon says in hope of Chanyeol relaxing a bit, “Until I start feeling more capable there’s always-”

Chanyeol clamps his hands over his ears. “Aaaah,” he shakes his head rapidly, “With all respect to your lifestyle, please don’t tell me anything about animals.”

Right. That’s..it’s not ok. Even for Junmyeon it’s still barely tolerable. His nape prickles with the onset of dread. “I’m really sorry, I..”

“It’s ok. It’s ok,” Chanyeol insists, looking pale and anything but, “I just- I know they don’t survive it, and I’m not judging you, I just..”

“No, I know. It’s not ideal. I hate having to do it.” Junmyeon’s stomach churns uncomfortably. The thought of Chanyeol hating him, no longer able to feel kindly towards someone who would do that..

“Practice on me.” Chanyeol’s eyes blow wide the moment he’s said it, clearly surprised that the thought barrelled out of his mouth. The hammering of his heart is audible, but with more confidence he repeats, “You could just practice on me until you get the hang of it. You can feed without needing to..use alternatives. And maybe it’ll help you get used to it? So your anxiety lessens.”

Junmyeon exhales slowly through his mouth. It’s hard to mask the spike of panic at the idea of biting someone again, especially when vampire sweat is so goddamn sweaty. He taps his long nails together in his lap. “That’s..very generous of you, but I couldn’t ask you t-”

Chanyeol flaps his hands so enthusiastically it’s a wonder he doesn’t take off. “It’s fine! I’ve been bitten tons of times! For me it’s fine. You know, my friends get me a coffee, I give them a vein if they need.” He nods encouragingly. Junmyeon winces. “I take a multivitamin and don’t drink,” Chanyeol adds to the sell, “I’ll be like, a healthy snack.”

“Ah,” Junmyeon offers politely, totally not thinking about anything below neck. 

“Ok, that- it was a big step out of nowhere, I realise that. But the offer is there.” Chanyeol claps his hands together, then unfolds himself and gets to his feet. He seems to like making noise to announce that he’s moving, like a warning. Like when big trucks reverse. Junmyeon wonders if he does that around everyone. “I’ll leave you to think, ok? It’d be cool if you took it. Sleep on it and let me know?”

“I will,” Junmyeon smiles tightly, keeping his fangs pressed well behind his lips. “You’re too kind.”

Chanyeol shakes his fluffy head, nose scrunched, before slipping out of the door with a wave. Not that Junmyeon’s weird about it or anything, it’s only two doors away, but he tracks Chanyeol’s aura just to make sure he gets there safely. He doesn’t. Junmyeon frowns, pressing closer to the wall. He isn’t yet strong or experienced enough to follow someone beyond a certain range, and Chanyeol definitely didn’t stop off home. Maybe he wanted to go for a walk. Maybe he’s just like, vanished and died. Which doesn’t make sense logically, and Junmyeon admonishes himself for even thinking, and continues to think about it until twenty minutes later he gets a spark of Chanyeol coming back into range. 

He hears Chanyeol’s door click shut and a moment later the muffled vibration of music. Tension he hadn’t realised he was holding drops from his shoulders. Veiny doctor said more people in his life would _help_, but rather than dividing his worries it seems as though he just spawns a new set individual to each person he knows. Wonderful.

✖️

Junmyeon sleeps on it. And spends an hour in bed thinking rather than sleeping. There are, by his estimation, at least 38 things that could go wrong. Or even if not on a scale of injury-to-death _wrong_, would be so excruciatingly unpleasant that he would have to leave the area. Maybe the country. And Junmyeon likes living here, so that decides it. He will not be feeding from Park Chanyeol.

Telling Chanyeol this is not as simple. For two days Junmyeon uses his precious little energy on sensing when Chanyeol is in the building so he can slip in and out unseen. His head is so swimmy with all the possible ways he could break the news that he almost forgets how stressful he finds the subway, until the crush of rush hour presses him to his usual lurking spot by the door and his sweaty vampire sweat soaks his shirt collar through by the time he reaches his stop.

Junmyeon can’t even begin to think how it would work. Chanyeol is incredibly tall, very animated, and he’s hot. That should be a bonus, but it’s really not when Junmyeon can barely differentiate hunger and horniness in the rush of want that comes with getting close to a pulse. It’ll be weird and awkward and logistically complicated, and Junmyeon tries his best to shake the idea away entirely after he sends off a second work email without remembering to sign it.

Day 3 of National Avoid Chanyeol Week, Junmyeon wakes up to the thick scent of bergamot. His instinct is to panic, but after a few calming gulps of air he realises he can’t sense any other presence in the apartment. Still, he’s slow in padding out to the kitchen area, straining to hear any unusual movement. Instead he hears someone on the floor above peeing, so he quickly tunes back out.

It’s only as he’s heading out for work that he finds the source with a soft crunch under his shoe. He gingerly lifts his foot away to find a slip of paper that must have been pushed under the door. Handwritten. Super stinky, in a nice floral way.

_hi it’s chanyeol! you know I still like you, right?♡ I figured with your cool new senses you could probably tell anyway, but it felt dishonest to make an offer like that and not say something. I dont want things to be awkward between us, so if you’re not interested I understand!_

Well, Junmyeon thinks, running a nail along the torn edge of the paper, befriending an anxious anti-social vampire does have some inherent awkwardness to it.

Under the message is a drawing of what looks like a dog wearing a ribbon. There are some flowers around it, too. Junmyeon tilts his head curiously. It’s not Chanyeol’s blatant crush that’s the issue. (It is a tiny bit, in that Junmyeon currently doesn’t feel like crush material, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of Chanyeol’s feelings). He has no issue with distrusting Chanyeol’s intentions or the genuine nature of his offer.

It’s dusky and cool outside. For a moment Junmyeon looks out at the view, the glow of streetlights and rows of windows. He definitely doesn’t want to have to leave. Junmyeon leans on the wall and writes on the back of the note with a pen from his work bag. _I don’t think I can, but not because of you. You’re very kind and I appreciate that you would offer. But_\- Wait, no, he shouldn’t give a reason. But he’s already started writing it, and Chanyeol will be home soon, and work, and. _there are 100 ways it could go wrong and I can’t risk that_ he scribbles, draws a haphazard bat-type-thing in return for the puppy, then folds the note.

Ok. Not _well_ done, but it is done. The guilt doesn’t lessen at all after Junmyeon’s crouched down and nudged the slip of paper under Chanyeol’s door, but that will come in time. He’ll still probably have to avoid Chanyeol for a while, but at least this will be an end to the biting issue.

✖️

Saturday Junmyeon sleeps in until midnight. Partly because he needed it, mostly because he’s lonely and the hunger is deep in his bones. For a while he drifts, unsure if he’s watching the moon through his blinds or just dreaming it. Absently he rubs a hand across his ribs, thumbing the open curve of the cage until his torso is sore and detracts from the aches everywhere else. Sehun and Jongin are most likely out having fun by now, while Kyungsoo does his mysterious Kyungsoo things.

Almost on cue there’s a knock at the door, and Junmyeon groans a soft _no_ and rolls to press into a pillow. He’s been anxiously sending falsely cheerful updates to the group chat since the live feed incident, and he’s relieved that they still care. But he’d also rather turn to dust than have a repeat of their last two attempts to get him some sustenance.

Expecting Jongin with Sehun hovering not too far behind, Junmyeon pulls the door open glaring up from under his bangs. He isn’t anticipating Chanyeol there, hands neatly folded at the wrists. “Oh,” Junmyeon straightens up immediately, pushing his hair away from his face. “Hey?” he offers, like he hasn’t been reading up on how to achieve invisibility so he can sneak in and out of the building undetected.

“Hey.” Chanyeol doesn’t wave and it’s hard not to feel the absence of his movements. The last thing Junmyeon wanted was to hurt his feelings with the note, but what other option did he have? (In his circumstances. The obvious option was to accept the best offer he could have hoped to get.)

Junmyeon takes a step aside. Chanyeol’s hair is slicked back neat and fancy, he realises as he avoids eye contact. It shouldn’t matter why or where he’s been. “Do you want to come in?”

Chanyeol nods, carefully slips through the space between Junmyeon and the wall. Junmyeon shuts the door and busies himself with uncrumpling his sleep shirt and sweats while Chanyeol is taking off his shoes. His company is familiar now, doesn’t set Junmyeon quite so on edge, but there’s charges of energy coming off Chanyeol in spikes so sharp Junmyeon is almost nervous of stepping around him.

Chanyeol doesn’t _look_ mad, but then Junmyeon’s not super great at looking directly into people’s faces these days. He’s looking at Chanyeol’s tightly balled fists, tightening his own hands into his shirt in response. This isn’t nice. This is bad. “I-”

“May I bite you?”

The words just sort of swim through Junmyeon’s head without joining up. He opens his mouth and nope, no words there either.

“May, um,” Chanyeol scratches behind his ear. It’s bright pink, radiating heat. He’s looking away, giving Junmyeon the chance to look at him fully. There are fine laughter lines around his eyes and the longer Junmyeon looks the more little freckles he notices. “I just thought..”

“May- what? Chanyeol, wh-”

Junmyeon’s senses really are shot; Chanyeol doesn’t move fast, but Junmyeon’s still just watching, stunned and motionless as Chanyeol’s fingers slide into the back of Junmyeon’s hair. His large hand cradles Junmyeon, tilting him slightly to the side. “It’s just..”

Chanyeol leans down and for a long moment Junmyeon lets him draw closer, closer. Beside his ear Chanyeol’s breath catches, hitches in uncertainty. It startles Junmyeon’s focus back into abrupt clarity. He grips Chanyeol’s forearm with both hands. “No biting. Do not bite me,” he stresses, and Chanyeol just gives him this kicked puppy expression, “_Why_-” 

“How else are you going to learn?” he says earnestly, fingers still wound in Junmyeon’s hair. “You said no because you’re worrying about it, so I just- I thought it might help if you didn’t have to go first.”

Oh. Well. “That makes sense.” Junmyeon swallows hard. Chanyeol’s pulse is fluttering under his thumbs, and the clawing hunger in him is dizzying. It feels so good to have someone so close, and if for no other reason that’s why he firmly declines until Chanyeol drops his hold. It’s too intimate. Junmyeon will die for a second time if Chanyeol bites him.

Instead of insisting, or lunging like a vampire would, Chanyeol backs away. He shoves both hands in his front pocket and he’s still looking at Junmyeon like he’s just insulted his dog or something. Eventually, he says, “You look..”

“Dead? I’m dead, I look pale and sickly all the time.” Junmyeon shrugs. Biting aside he’s been lightheaded since he got up, but at the same time it feels as though there’s a weight balanced on top his head, gradually sinking him down.

“Do you have anything in?” Chanyeol asks. Junmyeon shakes his head (the weight doesn’t fall, just makes his balance feel unsteady). “Want me to come with you?”

“You do too much for me already,” Junmyeon says. He’s stopped feeding from animals for Chanyeol, but he hasn’t known how to tell him that. Not killing things is redeeming himself, not going out of his way. “You try. I keep turning you down and you keep trying.”

Chanyeol shrugs his broad shoulders. “I’m here, so you obviously don’t reject me as much or as harshly as you think.” For just a split second Junmyeon swears he catches a little smirk on Chanyeol’s face. He starts stepping back towards the door, evidently waiting for Junmyeon to follow. “If they say they’re out of stock I can ask around, so lets go?”

Junmyeon folds his arms across his chest. If their roles were reversed, Chanyeol isn’t the type to pin someone to a wall and _take_, like Junmyeon had tried to that time in the club bathrooms. He’d probably be living on blood pouches by choice, or have a circle of regular donors. As humans they’d probably have been compatible. “I used to be good at things, you know,” Junmyeon replies as he pulls a jacket down from the peg by the door and starts to fasten it over his sleep clothes, “It’s embarrassing that you keep seeing me being so bad at everything.”

Under the dim lighting by the refrigerator cabinets, Junmyeon glances across at Chanyeol and thinks that he looks more of a vampire of the two of them. He’s wearing a black hoodie that swamps and hangs off him, black pants with a bright scarlet logo on the left thigh. Junmyeon liked pastels when he was alive and still likes them now. 

“Do you have a type preference?” Chanyeol tugs at the handle, then again a little sharper to break the seal open. He’s reflected in the glass, and it startles Junmyeon, which is silly, and now he’s forgotten the question. “Type?” Chanyeol raises a brow at him.

“None. They’re all the same to me.”

Really Junmyeon’s pretty sure he should be doing all of this stuff. He watches Chanyeol unflinchingly pick out a squashy pouch of each blood group, carefully layering them in the plastic basket. He’d expected Chanyeol to just kind of act as a guard dog or something, ask any questions that needed asking and keep Junmyeon occupied should anyone approach. Junmyeon would have to protect him if anyone took an interest in a human being around at this time of night. He could do that, he thinks. Somehow he’d do it.

“You doing ok?”

Junmyeon is abruptly aware of how tight his fists are at his sides and consciously relaxes. He’s always at least a little on edge, but there isn’t anyone sharing the aisle with them. The first time he’s been out with anyone other than the twin terrors since turning and it’s a human that’s been thinking about biting him. “Yeah, I’m.. yeah. It’s a lot easier here. Quieter.”

Chanyeol hums. They followed a map on Junmyeon’s phone that led in the opposite direction to the regular store that’s been out of stock for the past three days. This place actually caters to its nocturnal customers; the lights are all low, the blood is on display instead of out back on request.

“Things aren’t so bad once you find ways to do them that work for you,” Chanyeol smiles, all big blunt teeth that reflect slightly blue under the tinted lights. And maybe he’s right, maybe veiny doctor was right and reaching out is what Junmyeon needed to do. Adapting, adjusting. “Anyway!” Chanyeol turns for the checkout before Junmyeon can reply, “Let’s get going, you should have been drinking one of these, like, yesterday.”

With a last glance back at the well-stocked refrigerators Junmyeon scoots along behind him. 

“I like your company,” Junmyeon says. He’s drunk a pouch and a half and feels bloated, lightheaded in a totally different way to earlier. Not like his skull is empty anymore, but like it’s unbalanced and sloshing around.

They’re on a park bench under a street light. Chanyeol’s resting his elbows on his knees, and when he inclines his head to smile a tuft of his blonde hair falls into his eyes. “Yeah?” He tucks the strands behind his ear, “Nice to know.”

“It’s awkward just saying it, but this whole thing is awkward anyway,” Junmyeon shrugs, then has another long, sad suck on the tube. Refrigerator chilled blood is as uninspiring as he remembered. The pouch has condensated in his hand, drips of water soaking into the soft pale fabric across his thigh. He licks the blood from around his teeth before facing Chanyeol again. “Thank you for the..the everything.” 

Chanyeol waves him off. His skin looks sallow under the streetlight. The veins on the back of his hand stand out in sharp contrast. “I was mostly relieved you weren’t weirded out by it. I didn’t want to like, be that guy that doesn’t take no for an answer or anything. I was concerned for you.”

“No, I know.” Slurp, gulp, lick. “Chanyeol, you know I never actually turned you down?”

All at once Chanyeol animates, his nose itching and his hair needing adjustment and his legs suddenly becoming restless. “I mean, I can take a boyfriend as enough of a hint to know it’s not appropriate to keep trying. And when I stopped seeing him around I figured just..the moment passed, or something. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable.” His face flares hot and Junmyeon does his best to tune out from the sudden surge in Chanyeol’s pulse. God, he’d taste so good, Junmyeon knows it. He chews hard on the straw. “I didn’t want to make things weird by coming and offering help, and I really _really_ did not intend to start the whole biting thing. If you think you’re embarrassed around me, how embarrassed do you think _I_ am?” Chanyeol emphasises with a great collapse back onto the bench.

Junmyeon habitually twists the cap off the pouch, then realises he has nowhere to put it. As a human Junmyeon was more bothered about those things - always having someone, having prospective someones, being pursued. It feels so distant now, almost like his human life is a catalogue of stories he knows by heart rather than memories. He remembers the story where he had found Chanyeol too kind to toy with. Chanyeol had brought him flowers and Junmyeon had kept a polite distance, because flowers and dedication to one sweet boy wasn’t enough for Kim Junmyeon the regular human. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Chanyeol. I don’t..really know what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened,” he turns the cap over in his fingers, “There’s probably some kind of vampire code that means I’m indebted to you for life or something.” 

“All I did was buy you some pouches and talk.” Chanyeol shrugs. He isn’t being modest to angle for more flattery, which in a way just makes it even more awkward. All these raw feelings. “Just didn’t want you to suffer when all you needed was a little help.”

There are dots of blood stuck inside the cap. Junmyeon accidentally taps a speck out across his thumb and quickly wipes it off against his side, leaving a faint brown streak. “It was just the wrong time for us to get to know each other before. I..” _think about you often. Listen to make sure you’re home safely. Think your flat butt is cute._ Anxiety punctures through the happy little bubble that had been forming unnoticed in his chest. “I’m really grateful that you invited me into your home. It’s the first normal vampire thing I’ve done.”

“No such thing as normal,” Chanyeol says, because that’s the exact kind of thing Chanyeol would say. He slaps his palms against his knees. That means it’s time they got moving. “But I’m happy to have helped. And so long as you’re ok with it I’m happy to help out whenever you need.”

Junmyeon nods, tugs the cap off the second empty pouch. He leaves Chanyeol’s side to dispose of them both. “You’re very trusting that I won’t suddenly lunge at you,” he says, and even from a distance he hears Chanyeol’s soft groan. 

“Kim Junmyeon,” he says it sullenly, through a pout, “You can’t say leading things to someone you know has a crush. That’s like, the first rule of hanging out together and it not being awkward.”

He doesn’t mean to, but Junmyeon laughs. They’re in a public space and he’s giddy on blood and it feels so nice to not be curled in on himself in panic; it’s making him silly. “I was being serious! I’m so hungry all the time. Just because you’re so tall,” he starts to warn, trailing off with a smile. Anything further he has to say about how appealing Chanyeol’s veins are _would_ be leading.

Still pouting, Chanyeol gives Junmyeon’s back a firm pat when he catches Chanyeol up. “You finally smiled. Your fangs are big, my friend would be jealous.”

“They come in so useful for puncturing holes in the bags when the straws are faulty,” Junmyeon rolls his eyes and Chanyeol snorts into his hand, his eyes crinkling. He’s pretty sure Chanyeol is twice as cute and at least five times sweeter than the guy that scared him away from Junmyeon.

If Junmyeon’s nerves do start to flutter as they head back onto busier streets it isn’t as overwhelming as usual. The company helps, even if that company is human. When they reach Chanyeol’s door Junmyeon bites back an apology and thanks him instead. Progress.

“So, I’ll see you around. Don’t wait until you’re all out next time,” Chanyeol scolds, wrinkling his nose so Junmyeon knows he’s being being playful and passing the bag of pouches over. He pats himself down for his keys even though they’re on four keychains and stick out obviously from his pocket. “Maybe we can come up with a new action plan sometime.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon feels in his pockets to do the same. He’s already dreading being left alone with himself. He gives Chanyeol a small wave, his keys rattling in his hand. There’s nothing he’d like more than for now to be the time when he and Chanyeol get to know each other better. Everything is different now, most especially what Junmyeon cares about and wants from this life. But he can’t. He just can’t, and it’s like swallowing pebbles each time he reminds himself that he doesn’t deserve this much kindness. “Get some sleep, Chanyeol. You’re not immortal.”

✖️

Junmyeon wakes abruptly, and his first thought is that he’s having a panic attack. There’s a solid square of sunlight around his blinds and the room is stuffy with midday heat. He throws the covers off and sits up, gulps down air, scans himself for where the stress is coming from.

He’s hot, but..he isn’t panicking himself. The root of the feeling isn’t anywhere he can place in his own body, so it’s that he can sense panic. Maybe not even panic exactly, just energy. Energy that’s extending out to him, making his heart pound. He’s still a relative beginner at this kind of thing and hardly in a good condition for it, but nonetheless he’s confident of what he can feel. And _that’s_ what starts his own anxiety - there’s only one person he’d be picking up signals this strong from. Junmyeon hurries to dress.

The short distance to Chanyeol’s door should be safe - the concrete walkway above their floor probably provides shade at this time of day. Even if it doesn’t it would take him, what, three seconds? He could probably break down a door.

With the worst in mind and adrenaline surging through him, Junmyeon scoots straight past his small stack of shoes in the hall. His heart feels ready to burst. He yanks the door open and has taken half a step out when Chanyeol and the flurry of energy bowls right into him, knocking him off balance. For a moment he thinks his heart really _has_ burst from the shock of the impact, but then his senses come back, because Chanyeol is _here_ and flaring with unbalanced energy.

“Are you hurt?” Junmyeon grabs Chanyeol’s forearm, to try and scan him or maybe just to feel his pulse. There’s _something_, something palpable. “You’re hurt. You’re hurt somewhere, I knew I could feel something-”

“Only because you’re crushing me?” Chanyeol looks bewildered. He tries to withdraw from Junmyeon’s grip, hisses under his breath when Junmyeon only tightens his hold. “Junmyeon, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol gently eases Junmyeon’s grip where his nails are digging deep crescents into his skin. “I’m not hurt, it’s ok. Can I come in?”

Junmyeon steps aside on shaky legs. He watches on helplessly while Chanyeol steps out of his shoes, pulls the door shut behind himself. The fading adrenaline is leaving a fuzzy heaviness in its place. If anything Chanyeol looks..excited? But there’s _something_. “So why..”

“I have- uh. I was sorting through some pages of stuff and I have, uh.” Chanyeol sheepishly holds his hand up to show Junmyeon a thin scarlet line cutting across his thumb from the nail to his knuckle. “It. Yeah. I wanted to show you..?”

A paper cut. Junmyeon catches his big hand in both of his own, dragging it close to his face. “Why?” he asks, a little desperate, because he knows why. He can’t look away from the tiny swell of blood beading up.

“Baby steps?” Chanyeol gnaws at his lower lip, shifts his weight. “You know there’s no easy way of making a start on this whole biting people thing? You’re anxious, but all you can do is find ways to live with it. You have to start somewhere, eventually.”

“Don’t therapist-voice me, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says absently, not really annoyed, not really listening. Chanyeol’s pulse is throbbing into his hands where he’s holding him, and even such a small amount of blood smells so so so _so_.. “You shouldn’t do this,” he’s shaking, the hunger deep in his bones splintering out of them at the close proximity to sustenance, and he knows Chanyeol would hold him steady, “Not for someone like me.” 

“It’s really ok!” Chanyeol flaps his free hand a little. His voice is so bright it’s almost painful. “I want you to, Junmyeon, come on. Be nice to me, don’t make me embarrass myself explaining that it’s ok again.”

All Junmyeon really wants to do is be nice to Chanyeol, but their perception of how that’s going to work seems to be at crossed purposes. In another life they could have been flowers and sweetness, but Junmyeon had that life already and wasted the chance.

It would be rude to not even look at Chanyeol, but Junmyeon knows his pupils must be shrunk and tight with instinct he hasn’t learned to handle yet. His stomach rolls hot and sick with shame, but Chanyeol gives him that soft lilting smile anyway. “At this point you’d be doing me a favour if you just put me out my misery for keep offering after I’ve told myself not to.”

“Can you..look away?”

Chanyeol nods and obediently turns his head, squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. His whole face scrunches up when he does that, his cheek dimpling. “Just don’t go all feral on me or something,” he snorts. It’s joking, but there’s a waver to his voice. “I know it’s going to be like, the best thing you’ve tasted in months.”

Junmyeon can practical hear the thud of his own heart resounding out of his parted lips. Pressing the flat of his tongue to the cut takes the small amount of surface blood in one sweep. The taste floods his mouth, and Junmyeon whines softly at how little there is to take. A taste is all that’s really there, no matter how he licks and nips at the knuckle. Chanyeol wasn’t wrong. It’s the best thing Junmyeon’s tasted in his _life_. “Can I have more?”

Chanyeol abruptly blinks his eyes open, looking back to Junmyeon. All Junmyeon can focus on is his pulse, the thick vein in his wrist. He’d been so afraid that Chanyeol was hurt, and now all he wants to do is tear into him.

“Offers always been there, Junmyeonnie,” Chanyeol says quietly, turning his hand in Junmyeon’s hold to link their fingers and squeeze. Junmyeon’s legs are trembling. “How do you want to..?”

It’s Junmyeon’s couch, so really it’s his own problem if it gets ruined. Chanyeol insisted on removing his big black hoodie to drape over the back for just in case, but it’s only as they’re settling beside each other that Junmyeon realises he’s made access to his neck easier. He’s so kind Junmyeon would hit him for being stupid, if he wasn’t already so scared of hurting him. Scared of him being hurt. He’d been so afraid Chanyeol was hurt.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll be so careful.” Junmyeon wrings his hands, refolds his legs under himself. Even sitting Chanyeol’s neck is going to need some craning to reach. God, why didn’t he just let Kyungsoo give him an easy feed. He didn’t feel worthy of taking from her either, but at least her willingness hadn’t been so personal and precious.

“I know you will. It’s only your second try, don’t worry about doing it perfectly.”

Chanyeol starts to ramble off another story about Baekhyun and college and how he’s totally used to being a human pincushion for his friends, but Junmyeon’s mind is back on the man in the bathroom stall. It was a bad bite; a rip, blood flooding into Junmyeon’s mouth too fast for him to swallow. It sprayed up the mint green wall and when he’d buckled in half to hack it out of his throat the spaces between the floor tiles were filling fast, bright red. 

“Look, I’m not even paying attention,” Chanyeol fumbling in his pocket for his phone snaps Junmyeon out of his thoughts, “It’s fine, just. I have soo_o_ many bookmarked articles to read, I won’t focus on you at all. Start when you’re ready.”

Junmyeon kneels up again, wriggles closer. The headline on Chanyeol’s phone is something about the speculative release of figures from a 90’s anime relaunch, and Junmyeon gets another of those unbearable surges of fondness for him. If he’d bitten him right away, in the hall when the blood was fresh on his tongue, he could have done it without hesitation. He collapses against Chanyeol’s side in defeat. “This is so s-“

“Not stupid,” Chanyeol says, eyes fixed on his screen, “Stressful and difficult.”

“Stop it,” Junmyeon pouts, burying in against Chanyeol’s shoulder. It feels nice, and for a moment he stays planted there, enjoying the solid warmth of a body. But there’s still a tremor in his hands and the taste of blood in his mouth. His want is there, just simmered down enough to have let the nerves take a stronger hold.

Chanyeol plants his elbow into the arm of the couch and tilts his head onto his palm, totally very on purpose exposing more neck. “Not gonna stop being nice to you~”

Ugh. Just a tiny bite. He can do that. 

Pushing up again, with renewed determination Junmyeon tugs the neck of Chanyeol’s shirt down to give himself a larger area to aim for. He knows _how_ to bite, in smaller furrier theory, but.. “Chanyeol,” he whines. He’s whining, great. He’s good as clambered on top of Chanyeol in his efforts to get the right angle. “This is so awkward.”

“It’s-”

“_Don’t_ say it’s not.”

“Maybe other vampires find it awkward and that’s why they got a bad reputation for lunging at people instead of making small talk first?” Chanyeol tuts, glancing across at Junmyeon.

Their eyes meet, and a flush of embarrassed panic floods down Junmyeon’s neck to his stomach. “You’re supposed to not be paying attention!” Without thinking he grips Chanyeol’s jaw, twisting him to face forward again. Chanyeol’s heart abruptly starts thundering, and suddenly everything is happening too fast.

The loud heat of blood so close is irresistible, filling Junmyeon up and Junmyeon’s sunk his fangs into Chanyeol in a haze of instinct he hadn’t known was in him. Chanyeol is willing - that helps a lot, the way he’s pliable, moving to give Junmyeon access. It’s not violent like the first time, not scary. The flow of hot blood is blissful. Junmyeon’s swallowed down three full mouthfuls when the sound of Chanyeol’s phone clattering to the floor breaks his focus.

“‘m ok,” Chanyeol’s voice is miles away. “Are you?”

Junmyeon nods, his wet lips spreading blood. His nose presses to Chanyeol’s neck as they move slightly. He gives the punctures small kitten licks, cleaning it, soothing it. He’s hazy, overtaken by the sensory overload of taste and scent and the fullness of the blood. Just sometimes feeling too much of everything has it’s advantages. Chanyeol’s more on his back now, Junmyeon even more on top of him than he’d already been. Everything feels so hot and blurry and _good_.

“Keep going. You can take more.” Chanyeol brings an arm up around Junmyeon’s narrow shoulders, encouraging him to stay close. Junmyeon doesn’t need telling twice, pressing a soft moan into Chanyeol’s wet skin as he seeks the open wounds out. He latches back on and sucks hard, all the nerves and worry of how to exist in such close proximity overtaken by the rush of hot, rich blood. 

Chanyeol holds Junmyeon until he’s trembling too violently to keep a grip, and then Junmyeon presses himself in tighter to compensate the loss. To let Chanyeol know he likes being close. He likes that part almost as much as the feed, if he’s honest, but right now his head is spinning too heavily to know much of anything. 

Waking up feels as though it takes days. It feels like being reborn again, full of life this time rather than death. It’s not that Junmyeon is too weak to move or open his eyes - not anymore; he feels strong now - it’s just that he’s so sated and content with his stomach full and the thrum of Chanyeol’s pulse steady beside him. Gay. He’s really gay, also. Oh, wait-

It’s not exactly a surprise to find Chanyeol in bed with him; Junmyeon could sense him even before he’d fully woken. But, the bed part, and the Chanyeol in here with him part, those are a little more puzzling. Chanyeol’s lying out as straight and folded in as possible so they fit side by side on the single mattress. There’s a small blood stain under his head, but nothing concerning. 

Junmyeon sitting up causes Chanyeol to stir, too, and with a quiet grumble he shifts onto his side.

“Chanyeol, hey.” Cautiously, Junmyeon touches a hand to Chanyeol’s arm. The chill sends a shiver through him. “Good..morning? Night? Are you feeling ok?”

Chanyeol nods, pauses to yawn, then winces and rubs at his nape with the heel of his palm. “Morning, technically.” His eyes flutter open, and Junmyeon’s feeling far too many warm glowy things for such a cold dead being. “I’m good. Are you? Feeling immortal and strong yet?” he smiles, then splutters a little to clear the gravel from his throat.

“Actually, yes,” Junmyeon admits without argument, “I thought any effect would take a while to kick in, but I feel..” Not _normal_ \- Chanyeol will scowl at him if he resigns feeling not-terrible to being _normal_ \- but on the mend, certainly. “I feel like I have the potential to feel as good as my friends always seem.”

“That’s really good,” Chanyeol smiles and reaches across to pat Junmyeon. His eyes have slipped shut again so his aim is bad, first prodding Junmyeon’s waist. “Sorry to have been pushy, though. I’m sorry for scaring you earlier? You were so upset when I arrived.” 

Ah. Junmyeon purses his lips. They’re slightly tacky with dried blood, and he suddenly wonders if they’re having this conversation with smears around his face. “I have anxiety, it’s my prerogative to overreact.”

Chanyeol’s big eyes are blinked back open and watching him curiously. “But it was like you already thought there was a problem? You knew I was hurt.”

Either Junmyeon can explain, or he can be a coward and let Chanyeol find out through his friends. He presses his tongue into the edge of his mouth and tastes blood, sour from the hours drying out. “I think- I need to clean up, I just crashed out right after.”

Chanyeol frowns, pushing up onto his elbows. His hair sticks up in fluffy tufts. “Ok? Should..I’ll go home now, I guess.”

“Yeah. You- see yourself out when you’re ready.” Junmyeon clambers out of bed. He’s only _just_ getting his strength back, he can’t be strong _and_ brave all in one day. “Thanks again, really.” He gives Chanyeol a slight bow before speeding away to the bathroom, wiping extra sweaty vampire sweat from his palms as he goes.

✖️

It’s not exactly a date (because Junmyeon has always been good at those, and he’d have at least worn a nice sweater), but it was sort-of-scheduled that one of them would meet the other in the next few days to ensure Junmyeon gets a somewhat stable feeding pattern started. Junmyeon hadn’t wanted to impose himself, so it’s Chanyeol at his door again, talking about vitamins and wearing a band shirt with the neck cut out so his throat and collarbones are on display. Easy to reach, hard to forget.

For the next two days Junmyeon braves the subway feeling slightly less like shrinking into a corner, has a sharper focus on his work, and tells at least two successful jokes. With the full amount of energy he needs he has a better handle of his senses, and for the first time feels the potential to utilise them rather than be overwhelmed by them. Humans needs sleep, vampires need blood, big surprise. Day three jitters by, disappointing and leaving him drained and with the sense of having made little progress. (But he is getting more skilled at tuning into Chanyeol’s aura from further distances. Home doesn’t feel quite so dauntingly miserable when he gets a burst of warm energy soon after leaving the subway. Chanyeol works from his little apartment, so he’s nearly always there. Home doesn’t really feel like home anymore when he isn’t).

“I’m worried I’ll go comatose and be a bother,” is how Junmyeon greets Chanyeol when he has decided it would be just as imposing to expect Chanyeol to make the journey two doors down every time. “I slept for twelve hours last time, I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

Chanyeol gently leads him in with a hand spanning his waist, nodding in that way people do when they don’t see what you’re worrying about. “You’re pretty small, Junmyeonnie,” he smiles, patting Junmyeon’s hip to encourage him onto the couch. His hair is pinned up with a large pink clip and he’d evidently been anticipating a feed soon, wearing the same shirt with the frayed cut-off neckline. Junmyeon keeps meaning to look into who the band on the shirt is, but he’s usually too distracted to take note of the name.

Today is no different. When Chanyeol sits beside him and their thighs press it feels completing, the aura Junmyeon is constantly feeling for a solid form that he can connect to. A wave of fondness overtakes him, warm and bubbling up in the space that’s usually filled with dread. Without hesitating to think Junmyeon nips at Chanyeol’s shoulder. A startled blush rises to his cheeks, blood hot and so close to the surface that Junmyeon barely catches himself before biting without asking.

“Sorry,” he mumbles guiltily, forcing himself to back up, “Got carried away.”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “You’re fine,” he says, pinching the fabric of his shirt to readjust it over his shoulder and unsubtly rubbing where Junmyeon’s fangs had grazed in the process. “Is..is my heart noisy to you? Aaah, embarrassing,” he groans, plunking his face down into his palms.

Honestly, when did he get so cute that Junmyeon can barely resist eating him? “Your blood is. I can sense it more at times.”

Chanyeol straightens up again just so he can dramatically collapse back instead. “Like, when I’m getting all dumb and flustered-times.”

“You’re not dumb,” Junmyeon pouts. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell Chanyeol how good of a thing that clarity actually is, but it would break their rule of courtesy, so he just continues, “But yes, at those times.”

“You just-” Chanyeol whines, and Junmyeon doesn’t miss how it cuts off into a sharp inhale when he grins with his fangs.

“It’s an intimate thing, it doesn’t matter if you get fluttery,” Junmyeon pats Chanyeol’s arm consolingly, “You’re the one that was giving me this talk before.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agrees sullenly, “I’m glad at least one of us is getting past feeling awkward.” 

It was joking, but Junmyeon still feels a twist of something a little like guilt. Like he’s putting Chanyeol on the spot now he’s not so afraid to be near him. “I’m..starting to find it easier. Nicer. I like feeding from you and I think it’s making me feel more like myself,” he confesses. The floral heat of Chanyeol’s home is familiar now, not overwhelming. Maybe he’s been checking in on him just a little too frequently. All of a sudden it feels like he’s more comfortable with Chanyeol than Chanyeol is with him. “I’m not sure how I’d cope with feeding from a stranger, though.” 

“You don’t have to,” Chanyeol replies quickly. He plants his elbow into the arm of the couch and draws his knees up, getting into his usual feeding position. Junmyeon takes his lead and shifts closer, leaning into his side. “Until you want to, I mean.” Chanyeol’s voice sounds deep and distant, like he hopes Junmyeon might not hear. In profile Junmyeon watches his lips purse and pout and his tongue flick out to the wet them. “I’m taking care of myself, it’s not a problem for me. Unless it becomes a problem for you.”

Junmyeon chooses to only focus on one of the things Chanyeol said, and with good cause. He frowns, thumbing beside the largest bruise on Chanyeol’s throat. “Are you sure you don’t need to rest for longer? Neither side has healed yet.”

Chanyeol takes a slow breath. “Baekhyun and Jongdae both said that-” the edge of Junmyeon’s sharp nail bites in and Chanyeol swallows thickly, pulse speeding deliciously, “-after a month or so your system will regulate and you’ll need fewer feeds. And then when you’re at full strength we c- you can figure out where to go next.”

“Ok.” Junmyeon can probably last that long without eating him up whole. “Ok, Chanyeollie. Thank you.” He leans in and grazes a subtle, apologetic kiss to the bruise, right over Chanyeol’s healing puncture wounds, then tilts up to pierce a new set into him. 

✖️

Junmyeon’s only been knocking out for eight hours the past few feeds. Chanyeol informs him that it’s a perfectly acceptable amount of sleep, but as a human Junmyeon ran on four hours and really, Chanyeol’s the one that’s always awake at inhuman times.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how the whole..the anxiety thing.” Chanyeol gestures vaguely with his glass of juice. He’s drinking his breakfast vitamins at 10pm, because he guided a full and dazed Junmyeon to bed and fell in with him, and somehow _he’s_ the one giving lectures on sleeping hours. “How’s it been recently?”

Junmyeon’s been zoned out watching him for the past minute or so. Chanyeol’s hair is always messy after he’s slept, and it’s unintentional that his baggy clothes cling and pull around his too-long body. The purple, fading yellow and bright, fresh bruises on his throat is.. “Oh. Uh. Not so bad?”

Chanyeol swirls the last mouthful in the glass to stir up the juicy shreds of orange settled at the bottom. “Honestly?”

“Mm. Honestly. I don’t feel quite so terrified of existing now,” Junmyeon smiles, a little bashful. He’s just been in Chanyeol’s bathroom cleaning off tracks of dried blood and didn’t want to shrink down out of the space. It’s not a huge step, but the little continuous progresses build his confidence. “It’s helped a lot. The feeds, and you just..helping, showing me it’s not that scary. Being kind.”

Chanyeol hunches his shoulders as he rinses the glass. “Actually, seeing as you’re here, I thought, maybe, uh,” he rubs at his nose the way he does when his face is heating and flicks water onto his shirt, flushing deeper as he brushes at the wet patch. “I could take you to work? Like- I mean, just accompany you. The subway isn’t so bad with company, I think. That was something you were finding difficult, right?”

Normally Junmyeon would say no immediately. He’s imposed himself far too much as it is, it’s embarrassing - shameful - to let someone waste their time fussing over him like this. Chanyeol wants to, and Junmyeon wants to spend more time with him. And he’s been right so far, with what will benefit Junmyeon. “It was.” Junmyeon’s smile broadens at the memory of their last venture out together. “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take Junmyeon long to slip back home and get himself ready for work. He’s been noticeably less sluggish since he started feeding, and his mood has been improving for it. At risk of being _too_ cheery he’s actually been enthusiastic about getting to work recently, now he’s opening up more to his colleagues and focusing better. Obviously the lack of constant pain is a pretty significant plus, too.

Minutes later he’s back at Chanyeol’s door, rocking on his toes and scrolling back through the group chat while he waits. The fluttering in his belly could be nerves or excitement, and to be honest he feels too pleased about the idea of an outing together to pick at the feeling until it’s sore.

“Hey, do you think it’s cold enough out at this time that I should wrap up more?” Chanyeol takes half a step outside and immediately touches his hand to his throat. He subtly covers the fresh bruise with his palm, like Junmyeon isn’t intimately aware of every touch to it. “Uh- Would you be more comfortable if I covered them?”

Junmyeon looks up from the all caps message he was slowly thumbing out, blinking curiously. “You don’t cover them normally?” he asks before the implication of asking registers. Chanyeol’s ears colouring fills that in - repeat puncture wounds are like a claim. 

Chanyeol turns away, mumbling something under his breath that Junmyeon doesn’t catch. He meets Junmyeon at the stairwell wearing puffy layers under a heavy jacket. None of it cover the bites.

Chanyeol was adamant that he already wasn’t afraid of travelling with vampires, because of his friends and because he plain doesn’t believe the statistics on why he should be afraid. He thinks Baekhyun maybe put some kind of ward on him anyway. Can vampires do wards? Junmyeon doesn’t know either. Discussing it as they try to navigate a ticket purchase for a single nocturnal return isn’t doing much for his nerves. (It _was_ excitement, but it disintegrated to panic the deeper into the subway they went).

It may be that Chanyeol is a stupidly kind, well intentioned human and has no qualms with being here, and that’s nice. The community needs warm bodies like that. Junmyeon, though, he’s not so fearless about taking the journey with a human. _His_ human.

His human is probably one of, if not the tallest person on the platform, and the only one looking around like this is anything other than their usual routine. If Junmyeon’s so aware of his pulse at his level of health and experience then he hates to imagine how strongly the crowd around them can sense it, so he purposely keeps himself to himself. The thought of Chanyeol’s heartbeat resounding around the station just because he touched him is a pretty funny one, really.

_It doesn’t matter if you get fluttery_, Junmyeon told him. He groans quietly to himself at the memory. Maybe gaining more confidence isn’t actually doing either of them any favours. 

The doors open and Chanyeol lightly grips the back of Junmyeon’s collar so he doesn’t lose him in the shuffle forward. Junmyeon makes his usual beeline for the door, Chanyeol pulled along behind. His reflection startles Junmyeon again, and he hurriedly guides Chanyeol into the space beside the seats so he isn’t directly in front of the glass.

“Let’s talk, Junmyeonnie,” Chanyeol smiles, “It’s a step. Coming out from hiding behind your phone.”

“There was me thinking you were just going to stand there and leave me alone.” Junmyeon rolls his eyes, like he hadn’t been about to reach into his pocket. They lurch with the movement of the train setting off, and much as Junmyeon wants to keep up the fond indifference, he can feel the first trickle of sweat down his back. Looking at his feet or the hanging advertisements instead of at Chanyeol, and indirectly all of the people around them, would be really nice.

Chanyeol is so tall that he can rest the back of his head against the bag rack. “How many stops is it? If you can talk to me and keep your head up for-”

“It’s six stops,” Junmyeon replies curtly. 

“Then if you can manage one, that’ll be really good,” Chanyeol is subtle about the little rub at Junmyeon’s inner arm. Junmyeon hopes he was subtle about his sourness at feeling tested, when he should have known Chanyeol wouldn’t do that to him.

“Let’s see,” he smiles weakly. Another bead of sweat trails into the curve of his back.

“People don’t look at you half as much as you think, you know. I mean, in my case they do. So big it’s hard not to look,” Chanyeol raises his arms and yeah, the full puffy effect of his outfit makes him look as large horizontally as he is vertically, “I’m not trying to give you one of those lectures. And I know I can’t know how you feel,” he adds quickly, tone tired with familiarity of that assumption, “But people do learn to manage it, and I’m sure you will too.”

Junmyeon nods, frowning. It’d be nice if Chanyeol could give this talk to his group chat. Things have been less strained since Junmyeon could join in discussions about the joys of bloodsucking, but it still always feels like they urge him just that little too far forward. 

“If people are looking, what do you think they see? Something bad?” Chanyeol continues. Junmyeon is leading the way to his building, Chanyeol slouching along at his side with a casual coolness to his demeanour that makes it hard to imagine he was once in a similar place to Junmyeon. “Have you seen your face? If anyone _does_ stare it’s probably just because they want to look at it for longer.”

“I’d expect you to be more sensitive to someone with no reflection,” Junmyeon quips, smiling, “It’s not so much _bad_, I don’t think people find vampires to have an inherent evil to them. It’s not that different to sending out queer vibes and trusting that you’re still allowed to occupy that space. Not that- not that they’re similar things, really,” he breaks off into a laugh. Chanyeol’s laugh is twice as loud as his own, and Junmyeon’s anticipating the way he staggers and pushes his weight into Junmyeon like he can’t hold himself up.

“You could be onto something,” Chanyeol straightens himself out and gives Junmyeon’s shoulder a quick brush, like he should remove the trace of human from him. Can’t send him to work looking dishevelled. “Don’t try and distract me, though! I asked a question.”

Junmyeon hums blandly at the reminder. It feels easier talking as they walk in the cooling night air, remembering that Chanyeol is only human and can’t see and hear through the shadows. “Everything I do feels as though it could potentially be wrong. Like something bad will happen if I get caught out. And I guess I still have some of my human pride left, so the idea of that scares me on top of the fear of being around people and experiencing so much. Even telling the doctor that I found my new senses overwhelming was so hard.” The exact words are long lost, but he can easily recollect the way he’d panted to try and control the nausea. “I was so ashamed of that.”

Chanyeol nods. “And with your friends all having expectations..”

“Yeah. The kind of person I was as a human..they had a lot of expectations of how I’d be as a vampire. I guess that’s why they haven’t really wanted to accept that I’m not. Like if they keep reminding me who I’m supposed to be then eventually I’ll..huh,” he purses his lips, brows pinching, “I hadn’t thought about it like that before.”

Chanyeol gives him a broad grin. His eyes glitter with the lights of the passing traffic. “Discounted second-hand therapy. You should still go, though, when you feel able.”

“I know,” Junmyeon sighs, looking back down at his feet, “I know the fact there are support groups available means I’m not the only one, and that should be comfort in itself. I just needed time to get used to the idea.”

Again Chanyeol nods. It’s nice that he doesn’t pretend his situation was exactly the same. It’s nice when he’s around and Junmyeon feels more like himself. He gently tugs at Chanyeol’s elbow when he almost walks straight past their destination, smiles at how dramatically he falls back.

“See!” Chanyeol gestures excitedly, like he’s introducing Junmyeon to his own building, “We’re all the way here already. I’m like, an emotional support human.”

It almost strikes Junmyeon to agree, but the night is too young for those kinds of feelings. “You have far too many smart things to say.” Junmyeon scowls playfully instead.

“I taste good, too,” Chanyeol’s smile quirks, and his following fit of giggles doesn’t cover the flurry of heartbeats that leave Junmyeon with a twinge of hunger. “Ah, anyway, although I have never slept in my life..I don’t really know this area and probably shouldn’t hang around until your shift finishes. Maybe another time I could come pick you up instead? You’ll be ok getting back today, right?” 

“Yes, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon sighs, but he gives Chanyeol’s forearm a tight squeeze in thanks, “I appreciate you annoying me into doing things.”

“Good thing being annoying is a skill of mine,” Chanyeol says brightly. “Stop in for a feed if you..ah, no, it’s too soon.”

“It is, yeah.” Junmyeon fidgets with his work bag. It was barely ten hours ago he fed and he feels good for it, but he definitely wouldn’t say no to another. Or maybe just a few more hours napping together, Chanyeol’s warm body close and the liquid gold of his aura trickling between them. Hmm.

Totally normal symbiotic relationship, a human coming to pick his vampire up from work. Junmyeon prods heavily at the delete key and watches the last paragraph of his email disappear with glazed eyes. Chanyeol is _his_ human as opposed to just, he’s not just any human wandering into the subway in nocturnal hours. Amongst other vampires he’d be recognised as Junmyeon’s human, that’s. Yeah. He deletes a sentence too far and doesn’t notice.

✖️

In a few weeks Junmyeon will visit veiny doctor again and ask to be referred. He decides this in a burst of adrenaline following a sunrise walk (not run) home, after he purposely turned down a street where a bar delivery unloads and greeted one of the workmen. It’s terrifying and leaves his heart pounding, and he tells Chanyeol immediately, makes it a pact so he won’t back out later when things feel dark and frightening again.

Junmyeon also makes a purposeful effort to meet up with at least one friend once a week. With his feeds stabilising and his energy levels higher, and at least Kyungsoo’s growing understanding that if they want to see Junmyeon it needs to be somewhere quiet, it doesn’t leave him feeling like a wilting flower if he’s social for longer than half an hour. Four months after turning Junmyeon’s life is dangerously close to becoming settled.

Chanyeol doesn’t mention it when his pale sheets are one day replaced with charcoal black, and Junmyeon doesn’t really remember who suggested that it would be easier to just start out in bed rather than drag themselves there respectively in a food coma and drained of energy. Junmyeon doesn’t really remember when it became routine that Chanyeol sleeps over with him, or that some of Junmyeon’s work things started creeping into Chanyeol’s home to make it easier on nights he wakes up in the wrong apartment.

Everything gradually feels like it’s shaping up to become manageable. Maybe soon Junmyeon can tell his friends about the big human that made it possible. His human. He claims Chanyeol again and again, his bites deeper with possession and the bruises bolder, fresh layering over barely healed.

It’s a small life, but it’ll get bigger and better, Junmyeon’s starting to feel sure of that. 

✖️

A spike in Chanyeol’s energy is what wakes Junmyeon, but the metallic sliver of scent is what compels him to clamber out of bed. It’s warm and stuffy, sunlight just starting to glow through Chanyeol’s curtains. Junmyeon stretches until his spine gives a satisfying crack, licks his lips for the dried blood he knows will be there. How Jongin feeds multiple times a night and stays out for hours he doesn’t know. Maybe stamina builds with experience; Junmyeon has yet to feed without sleeping like a baby bat for the rest of the night.

Poking his head out into the hallway, it’s only a moment before he hears Chanyeol muttering _ow, ow_ to himself from the bathroom. Junmyeon senses the blood before he sees the single splatter in the basin, the smear on the pad of Chanyeol’s finger.

Chanyeol’s shoulders jump in surprise when he catches sight of Junmyeon in the doorway. “Bad at mornings. Like, actual waking up before noon mornings,” he laughs sheepishly, rinsing the razor off and cupping a handful of water to splash away the drop of blood. It washes away the tiny streak of scent from his hand. Junmyeon tuts, curling his tongue around a fang.

“Don’t waste it.” Junmyeon takes Chanyeol’s face in both hands, tilts him to get the angle. It’s not an easy reach with them both standing, but the cut is just under the line of Chanyeol’s jaw and only slightly above a recent bite, and Junmyeon’s determined. He pushes up close and licks away the small well of blood. When he digs the point of his tongue in Chanyeol groans at the hot sting, straining away.

Blood always makes Junmyeon a little woozy and loose. “You like it,” he huffs playfully, trying to tug Chanyeol back in. Chanyeol jerks away and out of his hold too fast, knocking the small wall shelf with his arm and sending containers of moisturiser and exfoliant clattering to the floor. The sound sobers Junmyeon up. He quickly ducks down to gather the tubes and jars, the weight of Chanyeol’s tension pressing down hard over him.

“Please don’t be unkind to me. I don’t-” Chanyeol’s pulse is an audible tremor in his voice, “I don’t mind any of this arrangement, but please don’t be unkind about me liking you.”

“I’m not,” Junmyeon frowns at him curiously, “Chanyeol, I’m not making fun of you. I wouldn’t about that, not ever.” He reaches out to place his armful back on the shelf and Chanyeol takes another step away, like he doesn’t want to risk being touched.

“I know it was my own fault- my own decision to put myself into your life and be around you. Everyone knows it’s stupid to think you can just be around someone you like and it not matter, but- you know, I just _am_. Really stupid. I never intended for things to work out how they have.”

Junmyeon’s heart sinks. He really, really likes how things have worked out, and until this very moment had been confident in thinking that was mutual. In all this time he hadn’t noticed that Chanyeol was on the verge of an outburst like that. “I didn’t realise it was too much for you,” he says slowly. With each word it dawns on him how overwhelming it would be to lose this. “I’m starting my sessions really soon. If you want me to stop feeding from you-”

“No! It’s not-” Chanyeol looks at him so helplessly. The cut on his face is glistening in the light, like he has precious gems under his skin. “It’s not that I want you to stop. I don’t want anything to change. You just caught me off guard, I overreacted.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. He doesn’t know what he’d expected to happen. What he’d _wanted_ to happen with Chanyeol who he thinks of as his own but has only ever told _now isn’t right_. How much more of a fully formed person does Junmyeon need to be before he can really consider what it means to be liked so much? “I overstepped, I’m sorry.” 

It’s just how Chanyeol is that he won’t let Junmyeon blame himself. He wrings his big hands together, staring down at the tiles and the space between their feet. “I know I set myself up to get hurt. I’ve been told that enough times. I was really just being neighbourly when I checked in on you, I’d have done it for anyone. But..”

Not all of this. It hurts in Junmyeon’s own chest, the way Chanyeol’s heart is constricting. Somewhere along the way Junmyeon has become too wrapped up in how exciting his progress has been, how easy Chanyeol’s company is, how many good things he feels when he’s with him. He’s neglected _why_, because if humans are self-centred and inconsiderate vampires can be twice as bad. Everything vampire is twice the strength it needs to be.

“I never did this because I wanted anything from you,” Chanyeol says quietly, “You don’t have to do anything unnecessary to keep me interested or anything, I was willing.”

No no no. “Chanyeol, that’s not-” Junmyeon hisses as a stream of sunlight cuts through the frosted window and across his cheek. It’s diluted by the patterned glass, but it’s the first time sunlight has touched his skin and the shock of pain knocks the breath out of him.

“Careful.” Chanyeol thought faster than Junmyeon and guided him back towards the hallway. The sunlight glows in blurry strips across his forearm and shoulder, picks up gold strands in his hair. “You should get back to sleep.”

Junmyeon does as told without argument. The shock wears away faster than the pain. He bundles up in Chanyeol’s bed with the covers pulled tight around him to block out the light. His skin is throbbing, but the latch clicks softly and the glow of Chanyeol’s aura rapidly fades, and panic barrels back in far stronger than any physical pain.

✖️

“Junmyeonnie.” Chanyeol peers out from behind his half closed door with eyes wide as an owl’s. A particularly startled owl. “I- I can’t invite you in.”

“Oh.” Junmyeon wore his nicest sweater. For the long moment of silence that follows he thinks about picking at the hem and unravelling it to keep his hands occupied. So that’s how it is.

“I have someone here.” 

Oh? There’s a sick stab of unease at how worried Chanyeol looks about Junmyeon knowing this, until he scrunches up his nose and his energy is clearly disgruntled rather than panicked.

“I wasn’t expecting you, I’m sorry. I don’t want to force you into meeting anyone, but if he realises it’s you.. I can come to you later?”

Junmyeon rubs at his nape bashfully. If he bothered to train his focus on anything other than Park Chanyeol he would have realised long before leaving his own apartment that there is a vampire in Chanyeol’s. “Is it Jongdae? Baekhyun?”

“It’s Baekhyun,” comes a loud voice from the space Chanyeol is attempting to block with his large form. Chanyeol groans, bumping his head against the doorframe.

Turns out that Baekhyun is the friend who wears the vintage 80’s clothing. His hair is pink like spun candy, offset by pale yellow eyes that widen when he sees Junmyeon. Junmyeon is absolutely _not_ sure that he can do this, but vampire sweat and diminished powers aside, he wants to.

Neither he or Chanyeol say a word before Baekhyun gasps dramatically. The speed he moves at his beyond anything Junmyeon has seen his friends do. He barely refrains from yelping when in a blink Baekhyun is no longer on the couch and instead pressed shoulder to shoulder between he and Chanyeol.

“_This_ is the neighbour you-“

“The one who lives two doors down,” Chanyeol says as desperately as you’d expect from someone in the same room as their crush. Undoubtedly they can both hear his heart pounding. Junmyeon wants to give him a reassuring pat, but that would make it worse. Considering he’s to blame for the expanse of bruises on Chanyeol’s throat he’s feeling quite exposed himself. “Kim Junmyeon.”

Baekhyun’s smile fills his whole face. “I bite Sehun all the time,” he says by way of greeting. “We have two friends in common.”

Junmyeon really doesn’t want to get into how yes he knows Kyungsoo and yes he’s the useless vampire everyone’s been despairing over. “Small world,” he offers, and then subtly wipes his palm on his side and offers that, too, “I think it’s you I have to thank for Chanyeol taking care of me.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun doesn’t so much shake Junmyeon’s hand as squeezes it. He doesn’t let go. “Because he took my advice? He’s the best guy for the job, isn’t he? So friendly and kind.”

“I’m right here.” Chanyeol folds his arms across his chest. Defensive or protective, hard to say. 

“I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you myself,” Baekhyun continues, hand still tight around Junmyeon’s. His yellow eyes have filled almost entirely black, shiny as beetles when he grins. “Isn’t it nice meeting someone you’ve shared a feed with, though?” 

At that Chanyeol groans, stepping between them and in the process separating their hands. “You make me glad I don’t have to live with this for eternity,” he tells Baekhyun, shooing him away from Junmyeon.

“It’s the opposite, Chanyeollie. It gets harder to feel embarrassed once you start outliving the people who remember it.”

Junmyeon smiles and wills himself not to feel anything but neutral, polite thoughts. Baekhyun would sense possession on him far easier than he’d be able to figure out how Baekhyun was taking that. He seems nice - Junmyeon would assume any friend of Chanyeol’s is probably going to be nice.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Junmyeon senses Chanyeol’s unease at him taking a seat beside Baekhyun and wills it not to discourage him. This is going fine, they’re talking. Something about Baekhyun makes it hard to feel as though he’s focusing on Junmyeon in the way he’s always so afraid of.

“Exactly!” Baekhyun bounces in his seat, “In ‘82 I made a super embarrassing mistake in front of my uni class, but they’d be, what. Like 80 now or something?” Baekhyun shrugs. Chanyeol shoots Junmyeon a look of fond despair, apologetic, and Junmyeon wants to hold the familiarity of it safe in his belly. “So who cares! What good does it do me dwelling on it all the time and wondering if anyone still thinks about it.”

“Baekhyun was leaving,” Chanyeol says loudly, leaning over the back of the couch and them both, “Weren’t you.”

Baekhyun’s mouth opens automatically to reply, hangs for a moment. Chanyeol was right that his fangs are pretty small, more like sharp little kitten teeth. “I was, wasn’t I,” he decides is the correct answer. The flood of relief from Chanyeol is palpable. “I’d love to talk properly sometime,” Baekhyun says to Junmyeon. His eyes have returned to their yellow slits again, and Junmyeon wonders if it’s like babies being born with blue eyes - if in time his will choose a new colour. “Maybe we could all meet up. Vampires only.”

If only because Chanyeol threatens to physically chase him out of it, Baekhyun makes his way to the door. His sneakers look as though he’s got about 30 years wear out of them. He takes Junmyeon’s hand again, capturing it between both of his own and patting it firmly. “Kim Junmyeon, if anyone makes you feel bad about yourself, know that they’ll be a better meal than they were a person.”

Junmyeon blinks at him, startled. A warm hand closes around his shoulder, pulling him out of Baekhyun’s hold for a second time.

“You’re a bad influence!” Chanyeol pulls at Baekhyun’s jacket, to his amusement, clipping the metal studs in place to get him ready to leave faster, “I was doing fine by myself.”

“You were doing totally fine by yourself. For a human.” Baekhyun cackles and Chanyeol gives his jacket a final hard tug to straighten it out. “Walk me to the stairs, human,” he drawls, a flash of orange in his eyes before he slips out of view.

“I’ll-” Chanyeol looks back to Junmyeon a little helplessly. Junmyeon realises he’s waiting for a sign and quickly nods. “Ok. I’ll be right back.”

Junmyeon nods again, waits for Chanyeol to leave, then shuffles back to the couch. He was never really for being bound to any one person for too long as a human, but the idea of anyone else feeding from Chanyeol..even someone nice, even Baekhyun who he now knows is nice, sinks in him like a lead weight.

Chanyeol fidgets, locking his fingers together to twist and pull at. “Do you like him? Don’t just say ‘of course I do if you do’ or something, I mean seriously.”

Baekhyun nods. He’s leaning on the handrail and Chanyeol is two steps below, evening out their heights. “Seriously, yeah I do. Why are you looking at me l- oh my god,” Baekhyun gasps, “Did you really think I was going to come back and attack him for making you sad or something?” 

“Someone with a track record does _not_ get to look that offended.”

“That guy who said you needed to lose weight deserved-”

“It’s not like he meant to make me sad,” Chanyeol interjects, “I mean, I appreciate you stopping by to listen to me complain. But I know it’s not an easy time for him, and I really really didn’t..”

Baekhyun reaches across to ruffle Chanyeol’s hair. “Your heart is so soft it probably isn’t even edible anymore. I know you didn’t have ulterior motives, I’m sure he does too.” He starts smoothing the long tufts of hair back down again, eyes dropping to a heavy half-lid like he’s relaxing with a cat to pet. “You shouldn’t be so down on yourself about it.”

Chanyeol leans into the touch to his hair and lets out a long sigh. “I’m allowed to feel a little sorry for myself,” he says, and then there’s a long pause. “What? You don’t think I am?”

The long chain hanging from the shell of Baekhyun’s ear curls on his shoulder as he tilts his head thoughtfully. “Chanyeollie, you may not have ulterior motives but that doesn’t mean it’s mutual. Are you really going to make me say it? I feel like this is some vampire confidentiality or something.” 

Chanyeol abruptly pulls back. “Is it something bad? Does he hate me? Can you tell that he hates m-” Baekhyun yanks Chanyeol close by the cords on his hoodie and he yelps as his cheekbone bruises into the hand Baekhyun is cupping his mouth with.

“He tracks your aura, moron,” Baekhyun hisses softly into his ear, “A little tiny part of your big self has been in his cold dead heart for months.”

“Can you do that?” is the first thing Chanyeol can formulate.

Baekhyun lets him go. “How many vampires do you want stalking you? Obviously I can, I have just never felt any desperate need to. Do not make me explain to you why he has,” he gives Chanyeol a look that would be threatening if Chanyeol hadn’t seen him do the exact same thing to stop Chanyeol from taking over his Pokemon Go gyms. “Though it’s done him good learning, it’s not usually the first skill we develop. It’s a difficult one even for a healthy vampire. You must be worth the effort.”

“You can go now,” Chanyeol says with some difficulty. The whole dramatic sweeping vampire thing looks slightly odd in a pink and turquoise shell suit, but Baekhyun makes a show of it anyway. He gives Chanyeol a brief hug in passing, then clatters noisily down the iron stairs.

Junmyeon is used to feeling inherently awkward, but he can’t say it’s not a relief when Chanyeol joins him in the apartment again. As worried as he is about talking, figuring out how to comfortably be alone in someone else’s space wasn’t all that great of a time either.

“Hey,” Chanyeol smooths his hair again to catch the flyaway strands Baekhyun hadn’t put back in place, “I’m really sorry about him, he turned up unexpectedly and hasn’t learned any manners in all the time he’s been around.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “He’s nice. I’m the one who turned up unexpectedly.” 

“I swear I haven’t been talking about you behind your back or anything, he just- I mean, I have been talking about you. The bites, and they’d wondered how you were doing after I mentioned the neighbour I wanted to talk to, but.”

“It’s fine.” Baekhyun left his headphones behind, Junmyeon notices in avoiding looking at Chanyeol. They’re small and on a bright red cord. Junmyeon would have assumed he’d have retro ones to match his look, but maybe he only likes having genuine, not replicas. Ones that feel genuine instead of modern. “You don’t have to be so careful to be sorry.”

“So we’re both sorry but neither of us want each other to be.”

Yes, but Junmyeon feels of the two of them he’s the one who doesn’t deserve to be let off lightly. It’s easy to fabricate how people feel and worry about the validity of it, but this isn’t the same as waiting for replies on a chat or wondering if three minutes late means they hate you and bailed. “Chanyeol, I haven’t been brave enough to say a lot of things, but you keep making the effort where I fall behind. I wanted to ask if we were ok.” He knots his fingers over his stomach to keep the fluttering nerves at bay. He hadn’t noticed Chanyeol was doing the same until he stops, stuffing both hands into his front pocket. “But, before you answer I also wanted to reassure you that I stopped feeding from animals. After we first talked about it. I stopped because you hated it. -I hated it, I wanted better for myself, too. So you don’t have to worry about me going back to that.”

Chanyeol purses his lips. There’s something confused and unrecognisable in the way he’s looking at Junmyeon. It’s unnerving when Junmyeon was already certain that Baekhyun only insisted on being seen out so he could speak about him. He hadn’t attempted to tune in, in case Baekhyun could sense it somehow and it would make everything even more terrible. Junmyeon wants them to take the subway together again and keep waking up beside each other under the rising moon. There’s a lot of things he wants, but unfortunately he’s twice the idiot he was as a human, in that way vampiricism amplifies everything.

“Of course we’re ok,” Chanyeol says eventually. His hesitancy doesn’t make it any less genuine. He just looks a little distant, like there’s something just beyond Junmyeon that’s holding his focus. “And thank you. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped you’d stop. I know it must have been hard for you.”

The little praise is soothing in all the uncertainty. Junmyeon taps one sharp thumbnail into the bed of the other. “They always tell you it’ll be fun when you turn. I guess for a lot of vampires that isn’t a lie.”

Chanyeol hums, now focused on picking around the rough edge of a nail. Junmyeon stops doing the same when he notices. “You’re doing really good. And you can come back for your next feed whenever you need,” Chanyeol says with a smile directed somewhere near Junmyeon’s shoulder. That’s all he says, so with a tentative nod and smile in return Junmyeon takes the cue to leave.

✖️

Junmyeon didn’t know how else he expected to find out that his feeding pattern is stabilising, but the second time in a week he visits Chanyeol only to find he _can’t_ feed builds his suspicion that it’s happening. It’s not that he couldn’t do it if he wanted to, just..he feels like he’s already full. He feels healthy. The scent and sound of Chanyeol’s pulse is still present, but its more of a familiar comfort than it sparks any urges.

And so this is how their visits lessen. With no urgent need, Junmyeon busies himself with not finding excuses. Chanyeol is always as cheerful as ever when Junmyeon sees him, undetectable whether he dislikes the lengthening gaps too. If it was a relief to see Junmyeon less he would understand. Whatever had been bothering him that day with Baekhyun seems to have vanished, as does any hint of the tension. Junmyeon’s utilised his strengthening powers to be more diligent than ever of monitoring Chanyeol’s wellbeing, (_instead of just talking to him maybe??_ Baekhyun suggested) but he never seems to find a trace of anything telling to how Chanyeol had felt that time before.

(_our abilities can’t resolve matters of the heart_, Baekhyun texted him. Sehun passed his number along. _sure you can hypnotise people eventually, but that doesn’t solve anything in the long run!_ It’s not terrible, texting him, unless he brings up that Chanyeol is kind of in love with Junmyeon and Junmyeon is kind of an idiot and very lucky Baekhyun isn’t going to bite his face off for it. So, every other conversation they have.)

The worst part is that Junmyeon doesn’t disagree with Baekhyun, which not only leaves him open to conversations he can’t defend himself in, lying to Chanyeol that they’re only texting so furiously because they’ve hit it off so well, but also means he has to do his least favourite thing.

Well, his least favourite thing is starving to death and feeding from animals. His second least favourite thing is disastrous, panicked feeds from strangers.

So it may be third on the list, but Junmyeon’s most pressing least favourite thing: addressing an issue.

✖️

Junmyeon’s first group session is at the very uncivil time of 9pm (which means being up by 7:30 at the latest, and the sun is barely down by then). Early start aside, he’s well prepared. Jongin visited to advise him on what to wear and gave him an impromptu lesson on how to smile charmingly without your fangs poking into your lip.

He had a feed two nights ago so should be good to go, but for strength and good luck Chanyeol offered a top-up. Which, Junmyeon’s not sure how much he really actually needs, but at lack of any other way to get an evening of cuddles he appreciatively accepts. The cuddles are for strength too, obviously.

“So, tell me the plan again,” Chanyeol looks away from the screen and to Junmyeon, who has been zoned out and not focused on the movie pretty much since it started. “We should keep running it through.”

Right. Junmyeon detaches from the sloppy mess he’s been making of Chanyeol’s wrist, sheepishly licking away blood and saliva from around his mouth. “I stay here so we both make sure I don’t oversleep, I go home and get ready, we both check we have the right map. Then you’re coming with me to the bus terminal.” They’ve been sitting shoulder to shoulder the whole time, Chanyeol’s right arm folded across Junmyeon and held in both hands. Chanyeol nods along slowly with each point, and Junmyeon thinks about slotting in under his chin and forgets what the final one is.

“And then?” Chanyeol prompts.

“You make sure I get on the bus and don’t run back home instead.”

“Yep,” Chanyeol’s laugh is a warm vibration, “And _then_ you text me or Baekhyunnie or one of your friends so we know you made it and can reassure you if you get nervous.”

“I’ll already be nervous,” Junmyeon pouts. His lips glide together wet and slippery. “Probably not Baekhyun. I think he’d give me more anxiety. And probably not Kyungsoo, either, sometimes he sounds stern because he’s being polite but I think he’s angry.”

“And then the last step is..”

It’s texting again to say he’s finished, and either to send out a distress signal that he needs picking up or to let them know he wants to be alone. They’ve been over the plan at least three times since Junmyeon arrived. He attaches back onto Chanyeol and sullenly starts feeding again.

Chanyeol scowls playfully. “Well, I know you know it, but we’re still going over it once more before bed,” he says, moving minutely to face forward again. “Which I guess should be once this finishes.”

Junmyeon makes a sound in agreement. He hasn’t been and isn’t planning on following the movie any time soon, but he is enjoying his snack. It’s a very different experience, having the opportunity to take his time with it. He only made a small puncture wound. His top lip just touches the edge of a tattoo wrapping around from Chanyeol’s forearm. He’s been suckling at Chanyeol’s wrist for the past five minutes, barely drinking but feeling every beat of his pulse travelling the length of his arm.

Staying just like this for the remaining hour, going to sleep, and following the plan would be..not exactly easy; this was always going to be a big deal. But the easy option in comparison to the plans Junmyeon has made without anyone else’s involvement. He’s anxious, but he’s not a coward. And he never intended to be so ignorantly unfair in this whole figuring out how to exist thing, so really the least Chanyeol deserves is for Junmyeon to put himself on the spot this once.

Junmyeon’s doing a brave thing tomorrow, but after all the good feeds he’s had recently he should be capable of two brave things in a week. His heart thuds once, twice, and then he gives Chanyeol’s wrist a final lick to clean the wound. He makes a neat job of slotting his hand onto the reddened flesh as soon as he withdraws, squeezing his palm tight over the punctures to stem the bleeding. The way Chanyeol’s aura feels when they’re together is like second nature. And yes Junmyeon’s still stalling by letting himself immerse in the golden glow for a long moment, but it’s the last selfishness he’ll allow himself.

“Chanyeollie, I was thinking,” Junmyeon’s throat tightens, “Maybe I could feed from you forever.”

If he’d expected Chanyeol to overreact he couldn’t have been more wrong. He finishes reading the subtitles on screen before turning his head. He reaches with his free hand to pat Junmyeon’s knee. “No, no. Junmyeon, don’t be defeatist before you’ve even had your first session. I promise one day you’ll-“

“Chanyeol.” Junmyeon holds his gaze until his eyes widen in realisation. Junmyeon doesn’t need to see in this dim light that Chanyeol has paled; he can feel the capillaries draining. His pulse picks up under Junmyeon’s squeezing palm so fast that it feels as though its trying to escape from his hold.

“Are you..” Chanyeol starts, decides for himself that Junmyeon obviously is, wets his lips with his tongue. Junmyeon reflexively licks the blood from between his teeth. “What kind of serious are you being?”

“I just can’t imagine anyone tastes better,” Junmyeon deadpans. It’s the nerves. He shakes his head hastily, “Can I explain?”

Chanyeol nods, watching Junmyeon with one of his deep, pinched frowns.

“It didn’t feel right to think I could return your feelings until I liked myself more. It didn’t feel fair to just _attempt_ to be a partner, just try to be good to you. The more time we spent together the more I realised I felt the same, and then the stronger and more confident I’ve become the harder it is to hold myself back.” He risks a glance at Chanyeol, but he’s focused on where Junmyeon’s hand is clamped around his wrist still. ”I think if I keep waiting until I’m better I’ll just hurt us both. More than I already have. In trying to be good to you I ended up being worse, because I wouldn’t own up to what it was, and I was wrong thinking that it was the best option. I feel so many things for you in ways that are new to me - that I couldn’t understand or conceptualise as being good or bad. And I was selfish and scared of losing your support, too,” he adds. Better to tell the whole truth. Chanyeol’s still silently staring at his own pulse point hammering into Junmyeon’s hand. “Please say something.”

“No such thing as _better_.”

“Not that thing,” Junmyeon laughs a little helplessly. Now isn’t the moment to get distracted by fondness, even if that’s what he’s talking about. “You make me like you more and more every day, Chanyeol. I can’t keep away from you, but I keep convincing myself it would be unfair to try and make it so I don’t have to.” 

With a gentle tug Chanyeol frees his wrist, and Junmyeon’s heart lurches at the loss. But Chanyeol just surveys the damage, rolls his sleeve back down to his knuckles, shifts so they’re facing each other better. “You definitely don’t have to do the..that loving yourself before someone else can love you thing must have been said by someone who didn’t know what they were talking about. Loving someone and being loved is so valuable to your wellbeing. It helps you to see what there is about yourself to like. How can you reach the stage of loving yourself if you feel too bad to take the love and care being offered and realise how valuable you are?” he urges, touching the tips of his fingers to Junmyeon’s thigh, “I know there are counter points to all of that and you’ve probably been thinking about them.”

Junmyeon nods. He lightly runs the pad of a finger over one of Chanyeol’s, around his rough nail bed. “Mm. I tried to just hide from you. I really tried to stay away, but you were always so kind. It felt too nice when I was with you, and it was never that I’d wanted to reject you as a human. When I was alive I stuck to what I knew was right for us both. But..I’m supposed to be stronger now,” he winces, “But in the end I wasn’t even strong enough to do what I was convinced was the right thing.”

Chanyeol’s smile quirks at that, the light from the tv capturing the full shadow in the pit of his dimple. “Actually, Baekhyun told me about the..the thing you do? The tracking thing?”

That couldn’t be less of a surprise. Junmyeon groans. “Of course he did.”

Heat floods back to Chanyeol’s cheeks. “I didn’t really know how to take it, to be honest. I still..I didn’t want to get my hopes up about what it meant. I wondered if you were just making sure you always knew where your food was,” he laughs bashfully.

“I was making sure you were always safe. It calms me to feel your presence, even if we’re apart.” Junmyeon can’t help the edge of sullenness, even if he doesn’t blame Chanyeol for his concerns. “It would be more romantic without the anxious motivation, I guess. Or maybe it would just be creepy? Is it creepy?”

“Baekhyun described it as vampire stalking,” Chanyeol offers, then shrugs. “I don’t think its creepy. I don’t have a lot of details about how it works, but I think it’s like..I _was_ an emotional support human, even when I didn’t know it.”

Junmyeon only realises how stiffly he’s been holding himself when a laugh bubbles up unexpectedly. “It’s gold. I wish you could see it yourself, it’s really something. It moves like smoke around me when we’re close. Ah,” he ducks his head. That was avoidance. Artsy, gay avoidance. Junmyeon curls his fingers around Chanyeol’s and squeezes. “I wanted to tell you this before my sessions started. I wanted us to be on the same page. I’d like us to be more than just a..symbiotic relationship, you know? I have a whole new life to figure out, and I’d like us to..”

After a moment Chanyeol lets out the bated breath he was holding. It was a long moment. Junmyeon laughs again, but he kind of wants to cry too. His palms are getting clammy; he doesn’t want Chanyeol to have to deal with vampire sweat _and_ tears.

“Sorry, I never said anything like this when I was alive. I didn’t rehearse this far.”

Chanyeol’s worn sofa creaks and dips under his weight. He folds his legs in so he can lean against Junmyeon’s side, taking up his hand in the process and linking their fingers despite Junmyeon’s protests about how gross it’ll be. “Symbiotic,” he hums, “Sounds romantic.”

“I think I can do a little better than that. With practice.” Junmyeon’s arms barely circle the entire width of Chanyeol’s shoulders, but three quarters of a hug is better than none. They slot together in an awkward tangle in the small space, and if Chanyeol’s wrist is bleeding onto Junmyeon’s shirt he really doesn’t care so long as he can feel the warm hand spanning his waist. “I’d like us to..” he tries again, but evidently two attempts isn’t enough practice. “I don’t know how to say it. I like you a lot, too, and I’d like us to go forward as..a thing. A proper thing.”

In honesty, Junmyeon’s never formally confessed to anyone in either of his lifetimes, so he doesn’t think he’s done the worst job of it. Chanyeol evidently thinks otherwise, dissolving into a fit of giggles and burying in against Junmyeon’s shoulder.

“You are really bad at this,” he confirms. The hot, heavy heartbeat resounding through his chest and into Junmyeon’s bones means it’s not such a terrible thing as Junmyeon was concerned. “But I like you all the same, Junmyeonnie, and you’ve got a lot of time to practice in. You know I’d be very happy to be a thing and go ahead with however things work out together.”

Junmyeon sighs at the sobering thought of the night ahead of him. He drops his head to rest against Chanyeol’s and plays lightly with the tuft of hair sticking out from his pink clip. “So we can share the bed without any biting necessary? I was really angling to get some good luck hugs.”

“Mm,” there’s a glint of something in Chanyeol’s eyes as he smiles, but then he shuts them and wriggles in a little tighter, “Don’t think confessing to me is gonna get you out of running through the plan again though.”

“Confessing to you was the first step of the plan,” Junmyeon says. It feels good to say it. It’ll be back tomorrow, he knows, but for now the heavy ball of anxiety he carries in his stomach is gone. “I allowed for it. And it’s gone well, so I’m more confident about the rest.”

“Good,” Chanyeol beams. The crinkles around his eyes look deeper in this light, or maybe he’s just scrunching up with happiness just that little more than usual. Junmyeon really is so unbearably fond of his whole existence. He pouts curiously when Chanyeol’s smile suddenly drops into a pensive look. “..ah, so, has Baekhyun been saying _like_ or _love_ when he’s been talking about me behind my back?”

Chanyeol is so lovely.

Junmyeon’s fingers still in Chanyeol’s hair. “Love,” he replies softly, then bursts into laughter as Chanyeol buries away to hide against his chest so vigorously it nearly throws them both off the couch.

✖️

Despite a total five run throughs of the plan, there’s still a hitch. Everything ran perfectly and orderly until three minutes before the bus arrived at the terminal, when Junmyeon reached into his pocket and discovered his wallet wasn’t there. He double checked it along with keys, headphones (Baekhyun’s, to lessen the noise around him), phone, and tissues (in case he cries and/or sweats profusely) on the counter, then left it there.

“It’s only a tiny problem,” Chanyeol assured him, hurriedly counting coins out of his own, “And everything else has gone fine, so it doesn’t mean anything else will be a problem. And we’re fixing it really easily.”

Junmyeon was too shaky on his feet to complain about the small loan or that he _knows_, Chanyeol doesn’t need to fuss. Because he would definitely have taken it as a bad omen and scooted back home had he been on his own, which is exactly why Chanyeol insisted they go this far together.

He placed the coins firmly in Junmyeon’s palm, a little extra just in case, and pecked Junmyeon’s cold cheek. “I’m really proud of you,” he said, gripping Junmyeon’s closed fist tightly, “Whether you go through the whole session or just make it to the door.”

And so here Junmyeon is now. He hasn’t gotten quite as far as the door yet. The walk from the bus terminal wasn’t as long as they’d estimated, and he’s been lingering back in case anyone else entering the building had stopped to talk. They’ll all talk inside, anyway, and hopefully once Junmyeon recognises a few faces he can approach at his own pace on future weeks. Or just hide more efficiently, time will tell.

Junmyeon hesitates far enough from the entrance to not trigger the doors into sliding open and swipes to his camera, pouting down at it. Eventually he angles right so the street light creates enough of a fuzzy glow around his shoes to take a photo. _going in!!_ he types, copies, and sends to the group chat and then Baekhyun. He adds a heart, a puppy and a bat before sending it to Chanyeol too. He pockets his phone, wipes his palms off, and heads in.

And maybe on his way home he can buy some flowers to bring two doors down.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! ☀ I am on [twt](https://twitter.com/taonsil) ❀ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/suyeols) 24/7 crying about suyeol and queer things, often simultaneously


End file.
